The Cold of Eastgate Road
by Crosswood
Summary: Thrown out penniless onto the streets of London, Natsuki accepts the help of an old friend... but Shizuru is also in need of help, and although she would prefer an alternative solution, she must trouble Natsuki to provide it. AU
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Absolutely not mine.

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"Miserable weather!"

Many people stepped quickly along Eastgate Road that evening – the dregs of a weary humanity; cold, desolate, and hungry. Lambeth Parish was no place to venture alone at night – the waifs and strays changed quickly to beggars and thieves once quiet darkness settled over London. That darkness had long since settled over the great city… yet none of society's flotsam had yet ventured to disturb the solitude of a certain slight, (definitely) female, figure proceeding mulishly through the winter sleet. Curious eyes would note both her scandalous hatlessness, and the lack of a proper winter coat - but it would appear from her proud bearing that the figure missed neither. Certainly the peculiarity of her mannish attire was no impediment to a glare colder than ice, which was quite enough to send a certain beggar – addled by drink perhaps, or merely unwise – scuttling back in search of easier prey.

This aura of inapproachability would have sat strangely on any other figure of two and twenty; the glare seemed stranger still, originating as it did from a woman who looked like (and indeed was) a gentleman's daughter. There was no indication that this was a figure worsted by a hard life – her shoes, although practical, were not worn at the heels or broken at the toes. Her clothes were good, and fashionably cut – innocent of the rents and patches and tatters that slunk past her, nervously avoiding eye-contact. Her face was fair and free of lines, although this description could not do justice; 'arrestingly beautiful' would be a fairer narrative, despite the scowl that marred the perfection of her features.

This was a bad night to be outside both hatless and coatless – the rain was pitiless, freezing, and increasing. A wind whistled and moaned, funnelled by narrow streets, seeking to snuff every source of warmth. The fumes from the gas works, and the general reek of London seemed to fall with the rain, sticking to the skin with an unpleasant greasiness. Generally, the roadway was muddy, the pavement was icy, the lamps burned only dimly, and that dreary district of London looked its very gloomiest and worst. Certainly this was not an evening to be about, and alone, yet this was where Natsuki Kruger found herself: striding hatless and penniless with rain beating her unprotected head.

Although her face remained set in its fierce, awesome glower, her eyes gazed wistfully at the rows of houses that lined the road along which she progressed. She had been walking the dangerous streets a long time and was thoroughly tired, cold, and annoyed. Her affairs had clearly come to an abrupt and unforeseen crisis, but it was very late in the day to be attempting to resolve it, and in her heart she had since resigned herself to walking the streets all night.

The door of the grandest of the old houses (for this had once been a proud area and the crumbling dwellings reflected that) was standing propped open, cheerful light escaping to flood the pavement outside. Perhaps unconsciously, Natsuki Kruger altered her weary course towards it, until the light spilled over her face (revealing perchance a trace more exhaustion than might otherwise have been noticeable). A wagon stood beside the curb, and two burly men struggled to lift an obviously expensive cabinet onto it. In the doorway, watching silently, a young woman stood, with her face the very picture of calm. This calm façade only faltered for a split-instant – reappearing so quickly that a witness would have doubted whether he had seen it change at all – and that split-instant was the moment the woman laid eyes on Natsuki Kruger.

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Alas; this chapter was kindly beta'd by **Black Mephistopheles, **whom (in my sorry delay to post this up) I have sorely abused. There is no kindness I could do to repay him, or to atone the time that I have taken in posting his improvements. I can only point to him as a true scholar, and a fine gentleman.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Mai-HiME certainly does not equal mine.

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"Natsuki!"

The young lady's head snapped around and her stride came to a sharp halt. That voice which had rung out so clearly - it sounded strangely familiar. Through the streaming light a figure stood silhouetted in the doorway.

"How is it that you know me?" called Natsuki gruffly, hesitantly.

"My – has Natsuki forgotten me so easily?" The figure asked in soft reply. The graceful woman stepped out a little, under the keystone, which threw her features into relief. Garnet eyes assessed the bedraggled and suspicious pedestrian before full lips curved in a gentle smile.

"Or perhaps she has other things on her mind this evening."

The sodden Natsuki racked her brains, battling to name the face before her. A powerful struggle was clearly taking place within the girl; a war between curiosity about the speaker and embarrassment over her lapse in memory. Finally, pride kneeled before exhaustion.

"I'm afraid you have the advantage of me," came the husky confession.

Red eyes softened slightly in concern. "Natsuki must be truly tired if she cannot muster enough energy to growl and snap." The figure paused in what appeared to be genuine puzzlement. "Permit me to ask… where is Natsuki's hat?"

The young lady on the pavement drew herself up sharply, curiosity half-forgotten in a rush of hostility. "I left it behind and did not care to go back and fetch it."

These words hung between them in the night air – a challenge.

"I see," came the soft reply. That gentle smile widened slightly. "You'll permit me to remark that, while the lack shows Natsuki's hair to excellent advantage, a hat might be appropriate on such a night. Could I suggest that Natsuki buy another before venturing further?"

Natsuki Kruger remained silent a moment, the rain continuing to batter her exposed skin. Her reply, when it came, was cold enough to freeze. "I would if I could. I haven't a ha'penny in the world."

The figure in the portal raised her hand, as if to let a half-formed tease fall from her fingers. "And where is Natsuki going?"

"An arch, or the shelter of a church-eve somewhere." Defiant green eyes blazed into dull red. Murky memories stirred and bubbled; congealing. Natsuki had stood like this before, seen those eyes before, and the certainty seized her that this aggravating figure was indeed a forgotten friend. Impressions of grass, and tea, and flowing water washed over her – powerful impressions. Only once she had mastered these did Natsuki notice that the other woman had moved gracefully back into the shelter of the doorway.

"Natsuki will come with me," came the firm command – no less implacable for being delivered in that gentle tone. "A fire still burns in the drawing room. Perhaps Natsuki will remember old acquaintances more clearly when she is dry." With that the woman disappeared into the interior of the house.

The figure on the pavement paused, shoulders set, her face a study of indecision. With a faint snort of horses and a heavy creaking of wheels, the mover's cart pulled away, leaving Natsuki well and truly alone on the cold and miserable street. The light from the still-open doorway beckoned softly and it was this, in the end, which the soaking girl could not resist. With a sudden darting movement, Natsuki bolted through the entranceway, closing the door – and with it the rain and the night – firmly behind her.

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A/N: This story has come about due to a rashly accepted dare, which explains the weird style: it's a little like a Christmas cake (i.e., dense, hard to make, and never as delicious as you'd like.)

Updated 3 OCT 12: Again, to **Black Mephistopheles**, my most sincere and effusive thanks. A very generous man, whom helps when he doesn't have to.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This isn't mine, no, it's not even slightly mine.

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The house in which Natsuki found herself was clearly an old building, with a long, wide hall, low stairs, and a vaulted ceiling. The oak floors and mahogany doors spoke mutely of taste wedded happily to wealth, but formed a strange contrast with the complete lack of furniture. Her new acquaintance stood before a closed door, one hand resting lightly on the brass handle. That same faint smile grew perhaps a touch more genuine with Natsuki's abrupt appearance in her corridor.

For her part, Natsuki was struggling not to simply shake the water from herself like an overgrown dog. Stubborn, damned pride won out over that unladylike impulse, but no amount of conceit could keep the now motionless girl from shivering: hair lay plastered to her face, and wet clothes lay slickly over cold skin.

"I am sorry." Natsuki mumbled out through lips turned blue. "But I am going to have to trouble you for your name. I have quite forgotten."

The smile did not falter as that elegant figure turned the door-handle and stepped aside.

"Shizuru Viola." Those red eyes crinkled, although with what emotion it was impossible to tell. "A simple Shizuru will suffice. My – Natsuki is brave to remain in the entrance hall! I myself, however, find it slightly cold with the door standing open as it is. Perhaps, for my sake, we could move into the drawing room?"

No guest could have expressed more obvious pleasure at her host's suggestion – Natsuki's eyes lit up with agreeable gratification and if perhaps her pace through the open doorway was a trifle faster than strictly proper – well. It was passed over in silence.

The drawing room was as pleasingly structured as the corridor – its size was magnificent, clearly stretching at least half the breadth of the house. Five large windows, shuttered tight against the chill wind, held the promise of future streaming sunshine. An inset stone mantelpiece ran along the opposite wall, surmounted by a large mirror, and the chimney-piece was tastefully carved. Puzzlingly, although a flame burned cheerfully in the fireplace, again there was a noticeable lack of furniture. Indeed, its lack served to highlight the very vastness of the room; a worn rug lay tossed before the hearth, along with a single chair, but apart from these the room was empty.

Shizuru moved towards the fire, and gestured to the chair. "Please, sit. I would appreciate Natsuki's company for the evening, if she would consent."

The heat from the fire and that elusive feeling of familiarity melted away all of Natsuki's instinctive and half-formed possible objections to this plan. A curt, but grateful, nod was all the answer the girl provided.

In the proper light of decent lamps, far more details about Miss Shizuru Voila could be seen. Light brown hair (a pleasant shade, but not out of the common way) fell to frame an oval face set with regular features. Indeed, bar two interesting variations, physically her description could have fit any number of young London ladies of a certain class. Dusky red eyes, however, and a certain elegance of height, certainly provided distinction – and the intelligence of her manner served to keep it. "Would Natsuki excuse me for a while? I would be a poor host to leave her guest dripping water over the floor. Perhaps I can find dry clothes that will fit…"

Natsuki's stomach chose this moment to rumble.

"…along with refreshments." Shizuru concluded, without missing a beat. Neither party batted an eye.

Natsuki's resistance gave up without a whimper at the mention of food. Her scowl dissolved into a sheepish, but truly genuine, grin. "Thank you. You are far too kind."

A close observer might have remarked that Shizuru's breath seemed to hitch for a fraction of a second, but perhaps would later conclude it was simply a passing fancy. Her expression never faltered from utter composure. "I shall be back soon."

With a quiet click, the door opened, and was shut behind her.

Instantly Natsuki was over by the fire, warming her hands, drying her clothes, and generally revelling in sweet heat. Some small part of her mind felt guilty at the water she had tracked inside, but a second, far larger part was occupied with a sensual anticipation of warmth rest, and food. The last part of her mind - small but easily the most sensible - was ransacking the vaults of memory seeking clues about her host.

"Shizuru Viola…" Natsuki breathed in puzzlement. Foggy memories of open fields danced on the edges of her vision. "Shizuru..."

And then, abruptly, she had it.

Her eyes widened as all the pieces fell into place. Shizuru Viola! Of course!

And then she felt stupid.

They had both been young, of course, Natsuki told her cringing memory. No reason to feel ashamed about forgetting the passing acquaintance of a single summer.

_She remembered _you_, though _whispered a traitorous thought, and the rest of Natsuki's mind was forced to agree. _She thought highly enough of you to rescue you from the cold and sleet. _

That quiet click alerted the still damp Natsuki to the return of her host, who was immediately made the recipient of a second sheepish smile.

Perhaps Shizuru had steeled herself better this time; that graceful smile was in place, and not a single outward sign betrayed what she might be thinking.

"If Natsuki is not more careful then dinner might not be the only thing cooked tonight."

The softly steaming guest ducked her head in acknowledgement, retaining the smile, and obediently moved further back. Shizuru's own smile widened perceptibly to something dancing on the edge of being called a smirk. She moved forward and placed a pile of clothes atop the solitary chair. "My! Not a single snarl or snap or whine? Perhaps, then, Natsuki has remembered our acquaintance?"

A storm rivalling the one outside played across Natsuki's face: the scowl prompted by Shizuru's teasing warring with the pleasure of recollection. "Northamptonshire; '70. Your father owned a country house near Rothwell." The frown fell away, melting in a wash of satisfaction. "Do you remember the market days?"

Shizuru looked briefly thoughtful. "I remember Natsuki taking a tumble into the reservoir."

The scowl returned at full strength. "I jumped in on purpose." Natsuki growled.

"Ah? But as I recall it, Natsuki couldn't swim."

Both ladies paused in reminiscence. Natsuki's scowl remained.

"…well. It looked easy at the time."

"Quite."

"But anyway." Natsuki turned her attention hurriedly to the pile of fresh clothes. "How is your father? Did he return to his post in India?"

"He died of Cholera contracted in the Americas."

Natsuki immediately halted her explorations, face aghast. "I am so sorry!"

Shizuru nodded her head regally, accepting the apology. "It is quite alright. Natsuki couldn't have known, and it was a fair while ago now."

"But what are you… how are…?"

Shizuru nodded again, as if Natsuki had actually made sense. "This house belonged to my mother, and was kept for me in trust. After Father's death, I was placed into the care of my father's childless older brother, who in return gained use of the building. A quite acceptable arrangement for us both, I think. Uncle was kind, but distant." Here the young lady paused, showing the first signs of hesitation, before continuing softly. "He has also died. My final uncle is not quite so generous, and has claimed possession of all his brother's furnishings."

Natsuki fidgeted nervously, looking awkward. The confusion danced across her features before settling back down into the default: anger. "Damn it!" she said loudly. "If I had known those carters were here to steal your furniture...!"

She pushed the clothes away and threw herself into restless pacing, eyes aglow. "I liked your father – he wouldn't have wanted…"

"For now, I have my house, and this is enough. It is a fine house and certainly contains enough space for Natsuki to stay for the night." Shizuru moved towards the fire, allowing the other girl room to continue moving. "That is – if Natsuki would consent to stay?"

Briefly, Natsuki ceased pacing, looking thunderstruck. "Wha… if I am not causing you great inconvenience, Shizuru, I should be extremely thankful to stay here."

For an instant Shizuru looked oddly grateful. "Thank you, Natsuki. You were always good to me."

Natsuki looked momentarily puzzled, and then clearly her mind rejected the statement as much too complicated for the small hours of a cold, unpleasant morning. "I didn't expect to find quarter this evening." She stated, halting her restless walk, instead seizing on the fire-iron. "This must have been the last thing I was expecting when I turned up Eastgate Road!" She ruthlessly stabbed the ashy logs, prodding the fire back into roaring life.

"Where was Natsuki coming from?" Shizuru enquired.

The fire-iron was placed carefully back into its battered holder. Natsuki carefully dusted off her hands, her eyes firmly fixed on them. "From the docks."

For a second (detectable) time, Shizuru's composure briefly faltered, this time in surprise. "Ah?"

"I had hoped to find my Godfather there, which I did." A sour expression crept onto Natsuki's face. "The dear Captain had several hours' worth of advice for a daughter who might dare defy parental authority. This came uncoupled from practical help. I think I was more annoyed by the bland courtesy of the whole experience, rather than the lack of shelter… although certainly his wife refusing to loan me a hat did not improve my evening."

Shizuru gracefully re-stacked the pile of clothes and moved them onto the floor. She then gestured to the lone chair. "Natsuki is better off here."

The now warm, but still thoroughly damp guest was unsure if her host meant the chair, or the house. Shizuru made no effort to clarify, instead moving back toward the door. "I have set the water to boil, and laid out some cold-cuts."

This caused Natsuki to frown in puzzlement a second time. "But surely… one of your attendants…"

Shizuru smiled again. "I have no attendants."

Both young ladies paused to process this statement. Shizuru's smile never wavered by so much as a French _millimetre_.

"Natsuki should know that, since my Uncle died, I have not been able to keep a servant in this house for longer than a day. Each of them became rapidly convinced this house was haunted."

With a graceful motion, the door was opened and Shizuru swept out, leaving an incredulous Natsuki behind her.

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A/N: For **Black Mephistopheles, **once again, I can provide only acknowledgement and no serious reward. For everyone who reads this old, old thing – he is superb people.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Now Natsuki could appreciate drama as much as the next well-raised English lady – but with the pronouncement that her house was haunted, Shizuru had clearly gone a little far.

"Wait!" Natsuki cried, springing unsuccessfully for the closing door. "What do you mean 'haunted'?"

To her intense displeasure she didn't quite make it, and by the time the door could be persuaded to open again, Shizuru had disappeared from the entrance hallway. Chill air on damp garments convinced Natsuki to return promptly to the drawing room, where the opportunity was seized to rummage through the pile of dry clothes. It seemed that Shizuru had been unaware of her surprise visitors' sizes, as she had brought a wide and eclectic assortment. They were mostly of an older style, however and cut for a woman more generously endowed than Natsuki. This complicated the selection process, and by the time Natsuki had struggled into the fresh clothes, enough time had passed to render Shizuru's continuing absence remarkable.

Natsuki was made of stern stuff, and even after the surprising end to the last conversation, there was no hesitation in her stride as she out moved into the entranceway. Her rumbling stomach also factored heavily. Roving through doors at random, luck finally favoured her with the discovery of an spotless, but sparsely lit, kitchen. Shizuru stood by a bench, half-lit by a guttering candle, pouring steaming water into a shabby pot, regal as any queen. A pair of mis-matched spoons lay elegantly beside two chipped saucers. The cups themselves had also clearly seen better days.

"Natsuki has found me I see."

The hunter jumped a little; there had been no outward sign from Shizuru that she had been noticed. The water continued to be poured with the utmost concentration

"Perhaps I can prevail on her to eat here in the kitchen?" Shizuru finished pouring the steaming water, and then turned towards the doorway in which Natsuki stood. "If I can then only the tea need be carried back to the drawing room."

Natsuki womanfully ignored her hunger.

"Wait, wait! You haven't… you can't just…" Then younger lady clearly took herself in hand. "What do you mean this place is haunted?"

The smile never left Shizuru's face. "It isn't. The maids merely thought it was, however a full explanation would take longer than this tea would remain hot. Can I encourage Natsuki to eat?"

Unsurprisingly, this answer didn't satisfy her guest's curiosity, but Shizuru was clearly implacable.

"I shall fetch what blankets remain in the house, but I fear their scarcity will be too great to allow Natsuki to stay in one of the bedrooms. I would suggest to her she remains close to the fire."

Natsuki Kruger was an impetuous young woman, perhaps prone to action when a little thought might be appropriate… but this tendency hardly made her stupid. "I will take nothing from you without the assurance you will have enough to be warm also."

"Natsuki can hardly expect me to place my own comfort above that of a guest."

"She can and she does." Natsuki stated flatly. "Deal with it."

Shizuru smiled her gentle smile. "Perhaps we should both remain beside the fire."

Natsuki barely hesitated. "We're still splitting the blankets equally."

A flicker of amusement registered before being quickly extinguished. "I was thinking along slightly different lines, but your plan is also acceptable."

With this conclusion, the food was left to Natsuki's tender mercies as Shizuru absented herself to acquire the necessary bedding. Balancing the tea-tray carefully, Natsuki then followed her host as the taller woman guided her back to the drawing room. These activities were achieved in a rather comfortable silence.

This peace was broken, however, once Natsuki had arranged her borrowed rugs over the softest patch of floor and picked up her tea.

"Won't Natsuki's own father be uneasy about her?" Shizuru asked serenely, having curled up on the chair. The other girl started.

"No." Said Natsuki shortly. "He'll be hoping the rain washes me out to sea."

Shizuru went very still. "I do not think you are right there." She remarked softly, dropping third person. "I remember two proud and passionate people, who loved one another dearly."

Natsuki shrugged awkwardly. "We quarreled. He ordered me to go. I left."

The silence returned; a much less comfortable version of the previous easy quiet. Shizuru sipped at her tea. Natsuki started glumly at hers.

"Natsuki was always very brave."

The person so addressed blinked rapidly at the change in topic. "I'm sorry?"

"When I was tasked by our fathers with keeping Natsuki out of mischief that summer in Rothswell. It was then that it struck me that you were very brave. I am both pleased and sad for you that you remain so courageous."

Natsuki seemed to be struggling for something to say in reply to this. Shizuru took pity.

"It is late, and I am a little tired. Would Natsuki consent to stay for breakfast? I can promise a more complete explanation then."

This plan was perfectly acceptable to Natsuki, who promptly placed down her cup, rolled into the blankets, and fell asleep instantly. Indeed her figure was so motionless one might have mistaken her for inanimate, aside from light sounds of breathing.

As for Shizuru, having finished her tea, she too wrapped herself up in the blankets. If she slept or remained awake it was impossible to tell.

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A/N: Sincere regards to both **BunnyJoker **(who initially gave me beans over my poor use of commas) and **Black Mephistopheles** who fixed them, firmly and mistakes, of course are my own – but if you've read this far then you probably already know that.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: You're looking in the wrong place for the owner of this particular sandbox.

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Lying on that tattered rug, and wrapped snugly in blankets before the dying fire, Natsuki Kruger dreamed a curious dream. She believed herself awake, lying on her back, and looking up and over. As she gazed into the great mirror above the mantelpiece, in the curious way of dreams, she could see the whole of that great, empty room reflected back. Shizuru lay slumbering on the chair with flickering darkness lapping the hollows of her face. The fire sent shadows dancing; the shapes twisting and vanishing across faded wallpaper. The dull firelight tinged everything soft red.

Natsuki was vaguely puzzled by how detailed everything seemed, but quickly resigned herself to it, as people do when they believe themselves to be dreaming. This resignation was also why she felt no great surprise at the quiet suddenly being broken by a heavy thump, followed by a shuffling, dragging sound. Turning her head lazily, Natsuki decided the source of this invasive noise was outside, in the entranceway. Despite this she felt no need for alarm. Indeed, the young girl was more annoyed by her peaceful idle being disturbed than wasting thought on what might be causing it.

With remarkable coordination for someone still lingering between wakefulness and sleepiness, Natsuki picked herself up from the suddenly comfortable floor, ambling to the entryway. A blast of chill air rushed past her when she opened the wooden door, and caused the hair on her arms to rise. This cold would have served admirably to wake Natsuki more fully, except that it never received that chance. The job of rousing the dreamy Natsuki was fully completed, in an instant, by the sight that met her as she looked out into the passageway.

The entrance corridor was long, wide, and terminated in low stairs. These stairs clearly led to the first level of the house, and were completely unremarkable, except for one small detail. A figure was standing on them.

The shape was fully engulfed by shadow, but the silhouette was clear, and it was this which seemed to be the source of that eerie dragging sound. Its slow, smooth movements did not change with Natsuki's presence, although the light from the fire spilled dimly into the freezing, unlit hallway.

The ghastly form halted suddenly and, as Natsuki stood frozen in surprise, raised its arms to strike the wall violently. This seemed to Natsuki an action so bizarre, so meaningless, that she totally neglected to be afraid. A sort of morbid, detached curiosity filled her and she took a small, silent step forwards. The figure began to glide again. Some ambient light from the street chanced to hit the figure as it moved up, which revealed more details to Natsuki's transfixed, unblinking gaze. For an instant, it seemed to wear woman's clothes, rent and ragged, with a mop-type cap barely covering wispy white hair. Then, as suddenly as the light had caught it, the shape moved again, back into protective shadows. As it did so, it let out a mournful, moaning cry.

Natsuki snapped out of her trance. With a wild yell, she spun around and dashed into the warmth of the drawing room, straight over to the fireplace. Seizing the fire-iron, she leapt over her discarded blankets and bolted back towards the door. "Shizuru!" she roared as she ran past her companion. "Shizuru! Wake up!"

Without waiting to see if she had been obeyed, Natsuki charged out into the icy corridor, brandishing the poker like a club.

The passageway was completely empty.

With a vicious, unlady-like curse, Natsuki barrelled up the stairs, flinging open the nearest door and rushing the room. This space was also empty.

Natsuki slammed open the next doorway, swinging her cold iron violently, a guttural snarl escaping her. Again, the room beyond was unoccupied, and Natsuki wasted no time tumbling back out into the corridor to continue the hunt. It was only while preparing to assault a forth such room that the calm voice of Shizuru reached her, calmed her, the steady light of a candlestick illuminating the darkness.

"Natsuki. Enough."

Natsuki kept a firm grip on the poker.

Shizuru smiled then, a proper smile, and it was as if her face had been lit from behind. It was beatific. The sight of that smile was so astonishing that a brief moment passed before Natsuki registered that Shizuru was speaking again.

"She will not come back tonight." Shizuru said, and her voice was bright with fierce joy. "She will not. She will not dare Natsuki, who reacted with anger and motion when previously she has been gifted fear."

The younger girl raised an eyebrow at this before lifting her free hand to Shizuru's eye-level. It trembled slightly. "Oh, I am definitely afraid," Natsuki stated dryly, "but perhaps our talk of haunted houses served to excite my imagination."

Shizuru's smile softened into fond indulgence. "Perhaps."

After one further instant contemplating her companion, the taller woman turned and moved back down the stairs, taking the candle with her. Natsuki followed unhurriedly once she had secured the open doors behind her.

The drawing room door, left open during the pursuit, had let in the chill of the rest of the house. A few more blocks of split wood returned the temperature to tolerable levels and, with this last mission of the evening achieved, Natsuki made to return to her den of blankets. Shizuru, however, paused. "Natsuki is not going to demand an explanation?"  
Her tone was merely curious.

Toasty and warm again, Natsuki yawned deeply. "You promised to explain over breakfast, yes?" She settled herself deeper into the rugs. "I doubt there is anything that can't wait until then."

Shizuru smiled that secret smile again before leaning back on the solitary chair and closing her eyes. The room settled once again into peace, and stillness, and silence. Natsuki waited for a time, watching furtively, until deciding by both breathing and stillness that her host had fallen asleep. Rolling over and keeping her movements shallow, Natsuki surreptitiously wiped her face with a clean handkerchief. Perspiration oozed from her every pore, trigged by a fear and agony such as she had never felt in her whole existence. Trembling, she allowed the fear to run its course and fade away, leaving her weary mind clear. Despite the excitement of the strange apparition, Natsuki was now thoroughly exhausted by an extremely trying day. This being so, and without a whimper, Natsuki Kruger allowed herself to fall contentedly back into sleep once more.

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AN:

In commonwealth countries – which by default includes Britain – numbering starts from the first floor above ground level. Eg: a lift will typically be numbered

5 6

3 4

1 2

G

With G standing for Ground Floor. This sensible system causes no end of hilarity for any New Zealander fortunate enough to host an American guest. ((Simple minds, simple amusements.))

**I would like to stress my sincere appreciation of both BunnyJoker, and Black Mephistopheles. These gentlefolk helped coax a silly backcountry shepherd through the rules of grammar. Thank you very much (again).**

Life advice: always attack ghosts with something before making any value judgements about how scary they are. Words to live by.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: It is not mine. Mine it not is. Not is it mine. It mine is not. Clear as mud? Good.

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Natsuki woke late the next morning. Golden sunlight lanced through the big bay windows, illuminating fine motes of dust, before landing in long lines across the wooden floor. The clatter of wagons mixed reassuringly with the bubbling sounds of people travelling the street outside. Stiffly, Natsuki rolled out of her rugs and shook her head in an attempt to orient herself. Shizuru was gone.

After the events of the previous evening, Natsuki wasn't sure she liked being left alone while sleeping and vulnerable, but decided it had clearly done no harm. If the strange figure had returned during the night, then it had left their slumber well enough alone.

In the fresh light of day and with the sounds of humanity all around her, a well rested Natsuki felt a little silly. Being afraid of apparitions was all very well for the darkness, but the day had brought with it new rhythms. Natsuki's night-time concerns felt faintly ridiculous. Being a creature of action, her response to this feeling was to stand up smartly, roughly fold her blankets, and set off to hunt down her absent host.

Natsuki found Shizuru sipping tea at the back of the house, the young host serenely listening to the sounds of the bustling city. These sounds consisted (at that exact moment) of three laundrywomen shrieking insults at each other with all the power of their prodigious lungs.

Natsuki coughed politely.

Then she tried again, only louder.

Shizuru looked up.

"My – Natsuki has awakened!" The older woman teased playfully. "And so late! I promised to explain everything over breakfast, but now I fear it is closer to lunch. Perhaps Natsuki must wait until tomorrow?"

Her guest blanched slightly. "Don't you try it!"

Shizuru's smile widened fractionally. This tiny movement did not go unnoticed, and despite a sour expression, the younger girl proceeded to settle down.

"Last night was a very strange evening," Natsuki grumbled, "and the ghost didn't seem keen to explain what was going on. That leaves the job of clarification to you."

Shizuru took another sip of her tea. The soft breeze mingled the smell of baking bread with the ever-present odour of the Thames. Somewhere close, the good women of London continued waging private war. The gentle sunlight soothed away the troubles of the evening, leaving peace behind.

_There is something very calming about being near her, _Natsuki decided; _and_ _something very unsettling also_.

"I have left the kettle chuckling," Shizuru finally said, unaware of her thoughts, "and made up a light meal. Will you eat with me?"

Natsuki fidgeted, uncomfortably aware of her host's generosity, but also of her own voracious appetite. "That would be very kind."

Shizuru smiled her gentle smile again, before standing up and moving gracefully towards the kitchen. To Natsuki, the warmth of that pleasant sunlight seemed to leave the room with her. The younger girl had no hesitation in springing to follow.

As they passed by the stairs, Natsuki couldn't help but pause, and glance at where the figure had been the night before. Shizuru stopped as well, turning calm eyes to her guest, implicitly granting permission. There was no hesitation in the acceptance of this; Natsuki bounded up the stairs and stood on that exact spot where she had first sighted the shape. Eager looks were cast around, hunting for the extraordinary, but there was nothing to see – just the various features of an elegant old house. Turning, she balled a fist and slammed the side of it into the wall. The thump was familiar and the noise echoed loudly, but aside from that the wall seemed to be normal; solid and unforgiving. The girl huffed in exasperation as she surreptitiously shook her aching hand.

"My – I see Natsuki wishes to hurt herself. I hope she is satisfied with only her hand." Shizuru's tone held definite disapproval. Natsuki winced in shame, and then caught herself. _She's __practically a stranger, _a small part of her whispered, _so why would you care?_

This thought felt somehow uneasy.

Natsuki abandoned the staircase, however, and both women moved into the kitchen. Tea was poured, lunch was laid out on the rather shabby table, and the meal commenced.

Shizuru kept a carefully neutral face, sipping her tea politely, as Natsuki wolfed down bread and bacon as if starving. The younger girl was taking such pleasure in the spread that Shizuru seemed hesitant to initiate conversation.

"I suppose…" Shizuru said, with her characteristic reserve, "that Natsuki will be going home today?"

Natsuki almost choked on her slice of ham. "Home?"

Shizuru waited patiently as Natsuki took a large gulp of water, recomposing herself.

"Home." Natsuki repeated. "No. Father will not allow me back without good reason." The young woman fairly vibrated with tension. "I have decided that I shall enlist. There is talk of war in Egypt; perhaps I can prove useful out there. My father will understand."

Shizuru's eyes widened slightly. Natsuki had, by now, provoked such a wide variety of barely detectable reactions that she recognised this one as the expression which would be the equivalent to slack-jawed surprise from any other Englishman. She steeled herself for the blow.

"I am not entirely convinced the Admiral would understand any part of Natsuki's resolution." Shizuru stated unequivocally, her voice extremely controlled. "In fact, I am sure of it. Enlisting would be extremely rash."

"If I don't enlist, then what else should I do?" asked the other flatly. "I cannot sail the new iron-screw ships, and the older ships are inundated with more experienced sailors seeking berths. I cannot dig, nor will I beg. But for you, I would be still outside seeking a safe place to sleep."

Natsuki pushed back from the table, her natural restlessness reasserting itself. "I cannot impose upon your good nature any longer! No. You have been far too kind to me, and I cannot in good conscience..."

"I am lonely."

Natsuki stilled instantly. Shizuru regarded her steadily, but with detectable fatigue; in that instant she looked deeply world-weary. "Natsuki is the first person since Uncle's death that hasn't fled this house after a night." Those calm red eyes locked onto green. "My aunt – my mother's sister – was murdered here. That predisposes people to think ill of this place, and it is a dread easily preyed on by those with the will to do so."

Natsuki eased back onto her wobbly stool. "I see."

"Stay, Natsuki." Shizuru said softly. "You could never be a burden."

The woman regarded each other steadily.

"I have no money." pointed out Natsuki quietly.

"I think rent and board could be provided," was the dry response, "if Natsuki could help with the chores. I assure you they are very easy, as we have no furniture."

Natsuki paused, stealing another glance at her companion, before nodding resolutely. "I can do dusting."

Shizuru's whole face blazed with gratitude and pleasure, just for an instant, and barely perceptible tension faded from her posture. It made her look younger. The teacup was gracefully raised; almost as if Shizuru was trying to hide her reaction; to give her time to compose herself again. Another small sip of tea was taken. Natsuki leisurely ate another piece of ham. The sunlight fell between them onto the table top.

"Shizuru." The tone was firm.

Shizuru lowered her cup. "Yes, Natsuki?"

"Could you tell me about your aunt?"

Shizuru placed her cup onto the battered table.

Natsuki looked a little embarrassed. "I mean…"

"No," the elder girl smoothly cut in, "it is a good question. Murder on top of everything else is just too much to be coincidence. I quite agree."

The younger girl glanced at her new housemate with very real sympathy. Shizuru appeared lost in thought, but not upset.

"My aunt was a very private person. She lived in this house very much alone and, in the silly way of things, was rumoured to have money. She probably died in consequence; someone broke into the house one night and stabbed her a single time in her chest."

Natsuki's eyes flashed. "Did they catch the…" with admirable self-control she managed to swallow the profanity "…person responsible?"

"No," said Shizuru thoughtfully, "they didn't. There was never even an official suspect."

Natsuki stood and gathered the dishes, plonking them into the sink. "Another cup of tea?" She called casually over her shoulder, changing the topic.

"Why yes! That would be…"

The sound of loud knocking echoed from the front door. Both women looked at each other, puzzled.

"No, no, don't get up." Natsuki waved Shizuru back onto her stool. "I'll get it."

And with that the newest resident of Eastgate road strode out of the kitchen to answer her new front door.

* * *

AN: It's very important that credit goes where it is due. **BunnyJoker**. **Black Mephistopheles. **I actually can't describe how grateful I am. Thank you.

In other news, I'll dance the shufflebug of celebration in exchange for opinions.

I'll STOP dancing the shufflebug of celebration in exchange for advice. (Yes the fee for stopping is higher than for the dance itself. This is due to dancing being an activity where enthusiasm does not replace skill.)

Please, please, please, tell me what you think. I have no idea. You could be throwing your collective hands in the air and lamenting my very existence. If you review then I'll know that! (Regards.)


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Mai-HiME. I'm pretty sure it belongs to someone else.

* * *

The harsh knocking echoed along the hallway. It caterwauled and rebounded off the empty walls, assailing Natsuki's ears from every angle. The knocking was very insistent, almost demanding, and this visibly compromised Natsuki's composure. By the time the slender young woman had reached the door, a deep sense of irritation had transformed her casual stride into a dark stalk, and an observer would certainly hesitate to suggest she was in any fit mood to receive guests.

It didn't help that Shizuru's uncle did not resemble his niece even in the slightest - either in temperament or looks. This gentleman practically strode over Natsuki as she opened the heavy front door; he didn't even allow time for the customary formalities. A mouse-like woman followed timidly behind, currying close to the wall with her head down and her eyes avoiding any contact.

Naturally, Natsuki objected strongly to a pair of complete strangers forcing entrance into her new house, and was about to make this displeasure clearly felt. Fortunately for everyone, however, Shizuru chose this instant to appear from the kitchen. Her gentle hand on Natsuki's bare arm, coupled with a still glance, served to (mostly) reassure her bristling, suspicious, young friend.

The threat of incipient violence was thus defused, and Shizuru's attention was free to turn towards her two unexpected guests.

"Uncle Edward," Shizuru said serenely, "and Aunt Mitsuko. How unexpected."

"Shizuru." The man said tersely, totally ignoring Natsuki. "We need to talk."

The aunt said nothing; she just pressed herself closer into the wall. Shizuru glanced at her briefly, face remarkably bland, before turning back to her uncle.

"If it is to be on the same topic as Uncle and I have discussed previously, then there would seem to be no point." A trace of steel underlay that soft voice, compassionate but unyielding.

Along the uncle's jaw, muscles tensed and jumped. His fists clenched, and his posture hunched - the very picture of a man ready to attack.

Over Shizuru's shoulder, Natsuki's expression turned to unforgiving winter…

…and the uncle took a fumbling, hasty step back. "I just think we should talk." He mumbled, holding up his hands in a conciliatory fashion.

Shizuru inclined her head gracefully, seemingly unaware of the byplay. "Very well then. The drawing room should suffice." Without waiting for a response, she gracefully turned and silently moved down the wide corridor.

Natsuki waited for the disagreeable visitors to follow first before trailing along behind, both territorial and unhappy. The sunlight through the windows didn't seem to shine as brightly with these new guests; the comfortable comradeship of the previous night had been replaced with some new weight, unnamed but uneasy.

Shizuru's Uncle Edward was a slightly built man in a well-fitting, but worn suit. Age had speckled grey through balding, coarse, black hair; otherwise he looked fit and well-fed. His posture fairly vibrated with tension; it sang from his body and emphasised lines of strain around his eyes.

In contrast to the dark-haired and gawky-looking uncle, the aunt looked like her niece; the blood relationship was obvious. It was a pale resemblance however; familiar red eyes lay dull and feeble in a stranger's face. That glorious chestnut hair lay mirrored as limp brown; even Shizuru's innate grace had been transformed into a kind of scampering, baseless anxiety.

Natsuki was not impressed._ A trial-run gifted none of the intensity or sly humour of the successor._

While Natsuki had been covertly evaluating the aunt (and finding her wanting) the party had entered the drawing room. The uncle had overcome his nerves enough to begin openly assessing her in return, and was seemingly coming to a mutual low conclusion.

"Who's the maid?" He demanded curtly. "And where did you find the money?"

Natsuki was shocked. This statement plumbed unprecedented new levels of poor behaviour. By the time she had recovered herself enough to realise she should be angry, she found herself beaten to the quick.

"Natsuki is not a maid." Shizuru stated with an icy finality. "She is a friend."

There was a pregnant pause.

Then the uncle looked to have swallowed his tongue, and even the unassertive Mitsuko looked a trifle scandalised. Natsuki was puzzled, before a sudden thought made her start. She was abruptly aware of what she was still wearing; the dry clothes lent to her during the previous night. Their mismatched styles and rumpled condition spoke mutely of having been borrowed and thrown on in some haste.

Shizuru's relatives had clearly drawn the wrong conclusion.

A deep, paralysing embarrassment spread through her. Her mind went blank of any further statement that wouldn't simply make the situation worse.

Luckily for Natsuki, Shizuru took pity on her.

"A friend who was caught out in last night's rain." Shizuru elaborated, sounding faintly exasperated. "She has accepted my invitation to stay for a time as my guest."

The uncle and aunt started breathing again.

"She can't stay in my house." The uncle declared flatly.

Shizuru's cool look grew slightly frostier, but her tone remained mild. "Uncle Edward should remember this is _my_ house. The terms of the will are very clear. If this was truly Uncle's house, it would have been sold along with father's furniture some time ago."

Natsuki took a moment to marvel at how an implication so insulting could be delivered so civilly.

Uncle Edward just looked ready to explode.

"Shizuru…" came a tentative female voice, slicing through the thick tension; the aunt had raised her hand like she was asking a question of a governess. Three sets of eyes swivelled to her. She immediately shrank down like she wanted to melt into the floorboards. "Umm… Shizuru… should think about… about what…" The aunt trailed off into inaudibility.

Shizuru eyed her with no change of expression. "I assume that Aunt Mitsuko is attempting to refer to the apparition."

The aunt squeaked, and nodded timidly. In the silence immediately following, Natsuki's soft huff of derision sounded far louder than she had intended.

The uncle, clearly seeking a new vector on which to vent his temper, turned to her with his eyes blazing. "Good god woman!" He cried. "Do you think this a joke? Except for my idiot niece…"

The younger girl lost all her patience.

"Be quiet." Natsuki growled. "Shizuru is not an idiot - and the idea of _you_ calling her that is laughable. As for your ghost… bah! It is hardly worth speaking of."

Uncle Edward stared at the irate young lady as if she had suddenly sprouted horns; his expression was one of utter confusion. Natsuki was seized by a sudden giddy rush of contrariness. She smiled widely, showing off all of her white teeth. "It was pathetic really;" Natsuki declaimed loudly, her eyes glinting; "it only floated about the stairs, making silly noises, and then moaning about doing even that much. The next haunted house you buy, Shizuru, you must make sure you get a ghost with a better work ethic."

Shizuru's lips twitched. "My – I shall take care to remember Natsuki's advice." She murmured. Meanwhile, a gentle hand had wandered back to rest on Natsuki's arm again; both a reassuring gesture and one clearly seeking reassurance.

Natsuki's expression softened considerably; it was hard to hold on to a vile temper with such a companion. "It'd take more than a silly ghost to tempt a Kruger to abandon a friend." She stated with finality, tone brooking no argument. It was unclear as to whom Natsuki was primarily addressing: the Uncle, Shizuru, or herself.

During this entire dialogue, the aunt had been very still, and remained so in the following quiet - but the uncle had no such self-control. He recovered himself quickly, along with his poor manners. His cheeks were flushed with emotion, and the set of his shoulders spoke mutely of his anger.

"You poor fool." He managed to grind out. "We're the only people willing to buy this dump! You need us, Shizuru, you need our money, and when you come begging we won't…"

Natsuki stepped forward then, cutting him off mid-sneer, her figure projecting sudden power. Her voice was very cold and very quiet. "I think you should go."

"No." The lanky man suddenly looked a lot more dangerous. "I haven't finished."

A small, deft movement placed Natsuki between him and Shizuru. "You really want to go." The words were almost, but not quite, a snarl. This time, Shizuru made no move to soften the threat.

The uncle and aunt left.

Natsuki saw them to the door.

When the now tense, edgy young woman returned, she was in the mood for neither subtly nor games. Shizuru was still standing motionless, her hands clasped gently on the back of the chair, seemingly engrossed in the reflection of the large mirror.

"No offence Shizuru, but your relatives are a piece of work." Natsuki opined sourly and without preamble. "Why does your Uncle want this house so badly anyway?"

Shizuru sighed, taking the brutally direct conversation in stride, her fingers running over the smooth fabric of the seat. "Uncle Edward is perhaps a trifle fond of cards."

Natsuki frowned. "Ahh?"

Shizuru seemed to realise insinuations would get her nowhere today. The corners of her mouth twitched again before she elaborated. "He thinks that my Aunt's fortune is hidden in the house somewhere."

Natsuki blinked, forgetting to scowl. "Ahh! I see! So…"

"Yes. By the terms of the will, the owner of the house is entitled to the use of all its original contents. This explains why, in the absence of other furnishings, Natsuki and I are able to sleep under blankets, and block out the chill with curtains. My aunt was a miser with very few possessions… but what possessions she did acquire during her life remain in this house."

The younger woman nodded. "So if you sell the house to him, and the treasure is hidden here somewhere…"

"Natsuki is correct. The treasure would belong entirely to him."

Natsuki glanced around, as if a fortune might suddenly appear in plain sight. "Is it?"

There was a pause.

"My – Natsuki is vague today. Is what?"

Natsuki huffed slightly. "Is there treasure hidden in the house?"

There was a second pause.

"Perhaps." Shizuru's smile remained perfect, but her eyes grew weary. The younger woman growled softly.

"Don't get silly ideas Shizuru – of course we want to find it."

Shizuru's expression flicked, as if this had not been the answer she had been expecting. "Ah?"

Natsuki maintained eye-contact. "Shizuru… you need money. You're thin and stressed, you're sleeping on a chair, and your relatives are hounding you. Now would be a great time for you to unexpectedly come into a large sum of money, recover your father's possessions, and then move to a healthier climate."

There was a silence. Natsuki waited expectantly.

There was further silence. Natsuki had suddenly had enough of silence.

"So?" demanded the irritated, husky alto. "Did you aunt give you any clues?"

The elder woman appeared thoughtful. "No, not really."

And then Shizuru smiled again, her genuine smile, as bright as noon; upon seeing it Natsuki forgot to be annoyed about the struggle for information. Warmth spread throughout the younger girl, prompting a crooked grin of her own. It was like being outside in sunshine.

"What kind of healthier clime?" Shizuru said, softly.

"Hmm?" This was a thought thoroughly different from any which Natsuki had been entertaining, and it threw her slightly. "I'm sorry?"

"To what kinds of climate would Natsuki recommend I retire?"

The younger girl blinked. "Well…" she trailed thoughtfully, "I am rather fond of Northamptonshire."

Shizuru's smile softened into fond indulgence. "Of course. A pleasant place."

On impulse, Natsuki reached out and very gently laid a hand on Shizuru's shoulder. "It is. Let's go there together then, and I'll show it to you."

For some reason, as she watched Shizuru's smile continue to burn steadily, this idea of fulfilling this simple suggestion felt very right to Natsuki Kruger.

* * *

AN: Cripes, the AN for this chapter is looooooong. Sorry team.

PLEASE NOTE: **BunnyJoker is awesome**. So is **Black Mephistopheles. **They are fine, fine people and it is impossible to them the credit which is their due.

1) 'To be beaten to the quick' I am informed has the same meaning as 'to be beaten to the punch.'

2) 'To be found wanting' means whatever strength of character is required to pass a test, the person in question doesn't have enough. Basically Natsuki doesn't think much of Shizuru's aunt.

* * *

I wrote this little snippet thing for a reviewer (**Alexissa2**), who very kindly reviewed chapter five… the text of which I then promptly lost. I rediscovered it after a couple of days but still felt guilty at the belated nature of the response. Hopefully, Miss Alexissa2, you are still reading, and this makes you smile.

As an aside: yes. You've probably noticed by now that dialogue… it is perhaps not my strongest suit. Reviews with suggestions, criticisms, or comments are gratefully received!

Finally: lambing season is nearly upon us. This time of year is simultaneously awe-inspiring and yuk, but mostly it is time consuming. I am, however, holding myself to roughly an update every three days, so feel free to pelt me with tomatoes if I am dragging my feet.

OUTAKE:

Natsuki: "Let's recap shall we? We've got a ghost roaming our house, you're tighter with information than the SIS, and your weird relatives have shown up wanting money. Do you _really_ have a plan for how to resolve this, or are you just making it up as you go along?"

Shizuru _((calmly))_: "Of course I have a plan."

Natsuki: "…ok? So? What is the plan?"

Shizuru:_ ((Thoughtfully))_ "… let's make out."

Natsuki: "What the … yeah? Ok."

_Crosswood comes racing in, waving the script, and yelling unintelligibly. She throws a bucket of cold water over the two. The water steams slightly._

Crosswood: "What are you doing?"

Shizuru: "My – the author is slow today. I would have thought what we were doing was obvious."

Crosswood: "But… but…!"

_Natsuki cracks her knuckles threateningly. _"Back off, shorty; you're writing this romance stuff far too slowly. We're taking matters into our OWN hands."

Shizuru: _((purrs))_ "My - Natsuki is so unintentionally dirty today."

_Natuski blushes and looks ready to destroy the nearest handy target. The author hesitates to take on a known badass. She backs away slowly, carefully, stalling long enough for Shizuru to become impatient. _

_As the two young ladies promptly forget all about her (having found more interesting things to occupy their attention) Crosswood gives up on the omake. The only thing she can do is turn off the annoying and slightly pointless narra…_

END


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**Disclaimer haiku:**

It's really not mine

Believe me when I say this;

Sunrise does not share.

* * *

The sight of two well-dressed young ladies was an odd one in the farmer's market area of the park. It was hardly a proper place for them to be walking. The ground was littered with unspeakable debris, the air was filled with the shouts of grocers extolling wilting produce, and the breeze was heavy with the metallic tang of animal blood. If the bystanders – mainly sailors on shore leave - did stare at the two strolling figures, then those figures had obviously become accustomed enough to ignore it. Certainly, neither Shizuru nor Natsuki complained about the respectful and slightly puzzled space that automatically opened for them as they moved through the crowd.

The visit of Shizuru's relatives had very badly annoyed Natsuki, and out of pure pique, she had spent the rest of the afternoon scouring the house for hidden riches. Shizuru had seemed less interested in helping with the search than simply watching her guest and occasionally preventing structural damage. When Natsuki finally gave up in exasperation, tired and dusty, Shizuru had the tea already made.

The night passed once again in comfortable camaraderie before the glowing fire.

Today, Natsuki walked with a cheerful spring in her step, despite carrying all the purchases. The exercise had brought a warm flush to her cheek - and the pleasant company a ready smile to her lips. Dressed in her own clothes, with a newly acquired hat atop her head, she looked the very picture of health. Shizuru glided along beside her, gracefully unencumbered, halting occasionally to inspect a choice piece of fruit or the quality of some new bag of flour. All in all, it was a beautiful winter's day, and the perfect opportunity to forget the unsettling events of the past several nights.

Unfortunately, those events would not forget them.

The first hint that something was wrong was an extremely large man stepping out from behind a stall. Another man, slender and missing most of his teeth, moved to flank the women from the other side. The faint flash of a knife told Natsuki that this was not a game; these gentlemen were planning efficient violence. It seemed that both she and Shizuru were the targets.

Green eyes narrowed. The purchases were carefully placed onto a nearby booth, and Shizuru equally as gently pushed out of the way. The older woman looked frankly astonished, at least until the first man attacked.

There was no warning; just the heavy rush of a big man equipped with the knowledge that he outweighed his opponent by at least seventy pounds. Natsuki didn't even bother arguing; she sidestepped neatly, then immediately launched herself at skinny-and-toothless. Screams and yells rose from the people around her; mixing with the crashing of tipped stalls, the confusion breeding chaos.

Natsuki heard a muffled cry behind her, but apart from a brief flash of fear, she could spare her companion no thought. The toothless man had dashed forward, and was now circling slowly, his knees bent and his centre properly grounded. The knife was held in a fist hidden somewhat by a ragged sleeve. This man was clearly more dangerous than the heavy thug, reliant as he appeared on skill rather than brute power.

Natsuki circled with him, nimbly avoiding the chaos, silently watching her opponent. Skinny did likewise. Both watched and waited for that critical first opening.

Suddenly there was another cry of pain, slightly off to her left, and it wasn't female. Quick thudding sounds came – wet, and heavy, like meat being struck on a butchers block. The thin man took his eyes off Natsuki for a brief, flashing instant, his eyes widening in surprise, and that was all it took. Natsuki lunged forward, inside the reach of his arms, hammering the palm of her hand into his nose. As Skinny staggered back, Natsuki pummelled his chest, his face, anything she could reach, trying to keep him off-balance and the knife out of play. Even so, things were not looking good. Toothless was tough, and it was clear he wouldn't stay on the defensive for long… until (as so often happens) luck decided the outcome. Skinny stepped back one step too far. His leather shoes landed on something both unspeakable and slippery, sending him off-balance. Natsuki drove forward in triumph, seizing the opportunity - a slashing kick into his shin took the legs right out from under him. As he fell to the ground, he flung out a desperate hand - the knife slipped from it to bounce harmlessly out of reach.

Suddenly, two policemen appeared; they swarmed over the toothless man, their heavy boots beating him into submission. Natsuki staggered back before turning. Her heart was racing, and her mind detached itself from all concerns but one. Shizuru. The sounds of the city faded into a high-pitched ringing, dreamlike time flashed past her, and her vision narrowed down to her immediate front.

Shizuru was standing next to a moustachioed Bobby, her face expressionless. A tall awning-pole was held loosely in her hands. Another constable was dragging away the unconscious body of the large man, who looked as if he had lost an argument with a windmill.

Natsuki nodded to herself, her mind still detached, strangely incurious. _Good, good_.

It took another couple of seconds before a male voice registered as speaking to her. A constable had approached, his helmet off respectfully.

"Miss?" He said in a voice like crushed gravel. "Are you alright?"

Natsuki took some deep breaths, steadying her racing heart. "Fine, thank you."

"I'm going to need you to make a statement," said the policeman, "but it shouldn't take long."

Natsuki glanced back towards Shizuru. She seemed remarkably composed; a cup of tea was being nervously proffered to her from the most evil-looking sailor Natsuki had ever seen. Other bystanders worshipfully scurried around gathering her purchases and generally being useful. That moustachioed man eyed them watchfully, ensuring their good behaviour.

The constable next to Natsuki followed where she was looking, pulling out his notebook as he did so. His face cracked into a wide smile. "Your friend is very impressive, Miss. He won't forget today in a hurry!"

They both paused to watch hardened street-scum collectively blush as Shizuru favoured them with a small smile.

"Really?" Natsuki said faintly.

"I've never seen anything like it!" Exclaimed the policeman with unprofessional glee. "She took that staff and waved it around as if she had six extra arms."

Natsuki took the time to both process this statement, and to attempt to reconcile it with previously understood information. "Ah?"

After a brief struggle, she mentally filed this under '_find out more later_' and moved on. "Will you be able to find out who hired these men?"

The broad Constable frowned thoughtfully, tapping his pencil against the pad. "I don't rightly know, Miss. We'll do our best."

Natsuki nodded. "I see."

"When we do know, we'll need you to come to Court as a witness, Miss."

"Yes, of course."

"Now Miss, if you'd just like to state your name for the record…"

Her eyes involuntarily drifted closed. A crushing tiredness was spreading through her body, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up out of the way and sleep. The Policeman was neither blind to this, nor unkind. The questioning was swift, and immediately upon its completion, his sharp whistle summoned a cab. The chattering bystanders loaded Shizuru's legitimate purchases into the boxes, along with some items which perhaps rightly belonged elsewhere. The policeman, if they noticed, made no comment. Natsuki and Shizuru ignored the staring crowd with good grace until, thankfully, the driver clicked his tongue, and the cab swayed into motion.

The younger girl took the brief respite to glance over to her companion again – Shizuru had said nothing since before the attack. By accident or design, as Natsuki did so, she saw brief flicker of exhaustion, flashing past almost faster than the eye could catch.

Natsuki was suddenly wide awake again, and swayed a little sideways to brush her shoulder against Shizuru's side. _We'll be home soon. Just a little more._

When the cab deposited them securely before the old house in Eastgate road, the cabbie insisted on waiving the fare, and neither of the two ladies could muster up the pride to object. The parcels and his charges safely ushered inside, this worthy driver politely declined the offer of tea, and headed back out into the London sunshine.

Natsuki watched him go, face gloomy. "Well. At least we have groceries."

Shizuru sat in the single chair, face grey with fatigue. "Natsuki…" The woman paused, closed her eyes, and visibly cantered herself. "Perhaps it might be best if I spoke to the Admiral… in order for Natsuki to be received back to the manor again."

Natsuki felt all the electricity of combat again; she whirled to face Shizuru, startling the other woman with the violence of her motion.

"No." The single word was flat and uncompromising. "No. I will not leave a friend in trouble. No."

_Not one who refused to leave me. _

Those words lay unspoken between them.

Shizuru watched Natsuki for a second or so before capitulating with a shallow sigh, leaning back in the chair. "This wasn't the work of the ghost."

Natsuki blinked, and then let herself relax again. "How do you know?"

Shizuru's eyes flickered shut. "This attack felt desperate."

Natsuki smiled grimly. "Much more desperate, I should say. It lacked… a certain elegance."

Shizuru opened her eyes and gave Natsuki an utterly indecipherable look. "Exactly."

Both women looked at each other.

"There won't be another attack tonight." Shizuru finally said, in tones of absolute surety. "It is safe to sleep." As if to encourage the younger woman that this was so, she herself lay back in her chair and let her eyes fall closed.

The other woman, frowning, retreated to the corridor. The sounds of someone clumsily unpacking the purchases followed; muffled curses, dragging sounds, and footsteps. Eventually however, Natsuki returned to her blankets as well and settled snugly down into them. Slowly her eyes drifted shut.

Night fell.

Natsuki was in no way a stupid creature – rather the opposite – and so she waited far into that cold night, completely motionless. Only long after becoming convinced Shizuru was truly asleep, and with patience few would credit her with, did she dare stir from her blankets.

During that brief afternoon, she had not only unpacked the groceries – she had also secured all of the windows throughout the house. She had quietly mapped possible weaknesses, scouted for escape routes, and had strategically placed certain innocuous items around the house.

Natsuki had turned the house into a fortress, and now it was up to her to defend it.

This was the reason she tiptoed out of the drawing room, wincing at the cold - _better light a fire; Shizuru might get cold during the night_ - but leaving her feet stealthily bare. Her patrol route was an easy loop; simple enough to navigate in darkness, especially with the help of a few clandestine rehearsals conducted during the daytime. The path covered all the obvious routes in.

Natsuki didn't know Edward Clyde very well, but he hadn't struck her as a man much interested in subtly.

Natsuki was fairly convinced Shizuru's uncle had been responsible for the attack that had occurred in the marketplace. A child could have figured as much. No one else had any motive to attack Shizuru, or the knowledge that Natsuki should also be targeted in the attempt.

_How he survived marrying into Shizuru's family…_

Natsuki was still thinking dark thoughts about that unworthy gentleman as she finished her patrol, and began the long pad back along the corridor to the drawing room. It pained her slightly to admit it, but Shizuru had been right. The night was safe.

The front door-lock chose this point to quietly click.

Natsuki froze. The next several moments were as still as a grave.

The handle turned downwards, slowly, and the door was gently pushed open until its progress was halted by the full extension of the chain. A slender set of fingers reached through, holding a complicated twist of wire, moving to unhook it.

Natsuki struck.

She slammed the door brutally with the hand still in the jamb, ignoring the anguished cry outside. She grabbed the chain and practically ripped it off in her haste to get to the intruder but it still took several seconds before she could wrench the door open. Yanking it open, Natsuki rushed through the opening to try and maintain her element of surprise. This turned out to be a tactical mistake.

Two figures, not one, were crouching outside. As the first man howled in agony, the second man flung a handful of red powder directly into her face. It caused her eyes to burn like fire. Blinded and yelling, Natsuki took a wild swing, hoping to get lucky - this connected (excruciatingly) with the doorframe. This blunder made her situation completely hopeless, and the two intruders took full, merciless advantage of it. Something heavy was smashed into the side of Natsuki's head, the force of the blow tossing her sideways.

Her last thought before unconsciousness was the realisation she had failed; the way to a sleeping Shizuru was now open.

When Natsuki woke up again it was into a world of pain. The terrified face of Shizuru swam into focus, along with that of a concerned-looking gentleman she didn't know. A brief tilt of the head was enough to confirm she was lying on her back before the fireplace. The weak light of false-dawn was highlighting everything in shades of grey. Upon seeing her awake, Shizuru gave a low cry and ran gentle fingers over the contours of Natsuki's face. The dishevelled young woman looked like she had been dragged through a very personal hell.

Somehow, Natsuki's instinctive words of reassurance came out of her mouth as a pained groan, and her attempts to sit up were thwarted by limbs grown strangely heavy. The man, clearly some kind of doctor, pressed her back down and shook his head firmly. "Stay down. That robber gave you a rather powerful blow."

Natsuki struggled to think through stabbing pain. "Robber?" She mumbled, wincing. "I don't remember a robber…"

The man nodded and drew up a large bag. "Memory loss is normal and temporary." Natsuki growled weakly and tried to get up again. "No, there wasn't a robber! It was…" But the doctor was already packing away his tools.

"She's lucky." He said absently to Shizuru, ignoring Natsuki totally. "The brain doesn't seem to be swollen. My advice is to let her sleep, but wake her up every hour. Keep her away from strenuous exercise for a few days."

Shizuru nodded and said something quiet. Natsuki couldn't really hold her thoughts together. Consciousness suddenly seemed like a huge effort.

_Shizuru is fine. Everything else can wait._

Without a whimper, Natsuki slipped back into the arms of sleep.

The next time she awoke it was with Shizuru gently shaking her awake. The light had grown stronger and her head split a little less. Natsuki spent a thoughtless moment simply being alive. Then the reality of the previous night struck her, and she bolted upright, hands pressing down into the soft pallet. "Shizuru!"

A hand clasping a cup of water reached out. "Natsuki must be thirsty."

Natsuki waved it away, face intent. "They weren't robbers, Shizuru; they weren't trying to take anything. They were trying to bring things in!"

Shizuru looked impressed, but unsurprised. "Yes. My – Natsuki was very observant last night. The police didn't understand the crime until the burglars confessed."

Natsuki deflated. "Oh."

"The gentlemen in question handed themselves in to the Metropolitan police immediately after." Shizuru continued, patting her friend on the shoulder. "They now sit in jail, awaiting trail."

Natsuki thought about this for a second, then looked utterly incredulous. "They handed themselves in?"

Shizuru turned her face away, and Natsuki couldn't see her expression. "I think they received rather a nasty fright," she said, in a careful voice, her tone quelling any attempt to seek further information, "after which they were only too happy to confess. They were to place stolen items inside the house without waking the occupants, and then alert the constabulary in the morning. A rather clever scheme."

The cup was gently, but firmly, brought to Natsuki's lips again. The younger girl capitulated and drank the damn water.

There was a brief lull in the conversation.

"That last attack actually feels more like what the ghost would do." Natsuki said, once the cup was dry. "It's a very… roundabout way of getting rid of us. The attack on the street…"

Shizuru leaned back. "Yes. The attack on the street was far more direct."

Natsuki lay back on the pallet and closed her eyes. "So, there are two people working independently." She muttered.

Shizuru said nothing.

The silence was a balm for Natsuki's aching head, _although _(she grudgingly admitted to herself) _the water helped._

_Two people working independently. _

_We have no idea who the cleverer of the two could be._

_Blast._

* * *

AN: My god, was this chapter a disaster area. I hated writing it. I really did; I just wanted to get it posted and away from me. This is possibly why I perhaps made a little free with the editing. Thankfully (and undeservedly), **BunnyJoker** and **Black Mephistopheles**once again pointed out how wrong everything was, and gently prodded me into fixing it up. Trust me; I made every mistake in the book. **Black Mephistopheles** in particular; your beta'ing work is superb, and my delay in posting was unconscionable.

As an aside, for those lucky enough to have avoided it, the symptoms Natsuki displays briefly – a ringing in her ears, time speeding up, tunnel vision – they are all very common in folks during a fight or during major shock. Fatigue afterwards is also very real. The body diverts everything it can to its own defence, and once the threat is over it needs a period of time to recover. So yeah.

* * *

OUTTAKE TWO (For BunnyJoker.)

_Shizuru is calmly sipping tea. Natsuki is pacing. _

Natsuki: "ARRRRRRGGG! Tell me what's going on! Every time I ask plot related questions…"

_Shizuru holds up a stick. Natsuki pauses, transfixed._

Natsuki: Oooooo, stick. Stick. Throw the stick! _((Bounces))_

_Shizuru waves the stick, then gracefully throws it across the room. Natsuki races after it, and fetches it back, dropping it at Shizuru's feet._

Natsuki: "…yes! Wait… what was I talking about again?"

Shizuru: "Hmmm? Oh, nothing. Would Natsuki like a belly-rub?"

Natsuki: "What the… yeah? Ok."

_A raging Crosswood comes barrelling into the room. _

Crosswood: "No, no, no! I won't let you wriggle out of answering plot-important questions this time! No!"

_Shizuru isn't listening. Neither is Natsuki. _

_A blushing Crosswood gives up on the omake again. _

END


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer Limerick:**

To Sunrise these stories belong,

And I am just tagging along.

Now this is my cue,

To mention 'don't sue'!

To think that I own them is wrong.

* * *

Shizuru was ruthless when it came to the doctor's instructions.

Each hour on the hour, despite Natsuki's increasingly strident protests, Shizuru gently shook her young friend awake in order to examine her. A cup of cool water was pressed to Natsuki's lips, gentle fingers lifted heavy eyelids to check her pupils, and kind hands ran lightly over a still-tender wound. The elder woman appeared completely immune to the surly grumbles and mumbles elicited by this treatment; she endured them stoically until her careful study had confirmed no trace of permanent damage. Only then did Shizuru allow Natsuki to fall temporarily back to sleep.

The dreams that visited our young heroine in that pained and laboured rest were both confused and formless; spikes of colour that rained and flashed across fields of black and beige. When Shizuru awoke her, although she might have outwardly grumped, Natuski was always secretly relieved.

Shizuru's watchful supervision continued throughout the morning and long into the deepening gold of a cloudless afternoon. It was a heroic, exhausting vigil. With each hour that passed Shizuru's face grew greyer, her voice grew softer, and her touch grew even gentler. Even so, it was a long time before Shizuru allowed her patient to fall asleep and remain so undisturbed.

When next Natsuki stirred, it was to utter and complete silence, but for the muffled sounds of the parish cloak striking midnight.

Shizuru was lying next to her, asleep on the bare floor. Her face was relaxed, her breathing was light, and wisps of her hair lay carelessly across her smooth skin. Without those knowing red eyes lending gravity, Shizuru looked young – far too young to shoulder such heavy burdens. She was also trembling with cold. Slender fingers were curled slightly around the top of a single blanket, grasping it close, seeking further warmth but gaining none. The fire had died to mere embers on the hearth.

Natsuki scowled. From the experience of the past several days and the accumulation of various new aches, her body informed her that the hard floor made an extremely uncomfortable mattress. The barely detectable shivering, furthermore, reinforced her prior understanding that a single blanket was quite inadequate for the London winter. Her friend was plainly in discomfort, lying there on the cold floor, and this was utterly unacceptable – especially for her sake.

As Natsuki considered her options, the clatter of iron-shod wheels rattled past outside before fading back into silence. The faint, even glow of the fire grew dimmer. Finally, it was the shivering that prompted action. Natsuki sat up, pushing off her thick layer of blankets, gasping slightly at the sudden chill.

"Shizuru?" The whisper was as quiet as breathing. The younger girl hesitantly reached out with an uncertain hand, almost brushing a cheek, before letting it fall. "Shizuru?"

There was no response, not even a flicker. With a barely audible huff, Natsuki pulled herself off the soft pallet, scrambling to her feet. "Shizuru?" She hissed, slightly louder. "Are you awake?"

Shizuru's eyes flickered partially open, her expression groggy. "Natsuki?"

"You'll get stiff sleeping there on the floor." Natsuki murmured coaxingly. "You should really think about the potential long-term consequences to your back."

A bleary look was all the answer she received.

Natsuki bit her lip to prevent an unladylike snicker; in the entire length of their renewed acquaintance, the younger had never seen the elder look so mystified. With great restraint, however, Natsuki failed to press her advantage, instead turning to the matter at hand. With a surprising gentleness, the befuddled Shizuru was teased and cajoled onto the closer half of the mattress. Once there, and appearing utterly unaware of her new surroundings, the sluggish Shizuru promptly fell back asleep.

Natsuki was hardly any better. Her own eyes were growing heavy, and her steps shambolic. Tossing some fresh logs into the fire grate and lying down carefully on the opposite side of the mattress, one last firm tug brought the rest of the blankets up to cover them both.

Far warmer now, and surprisingly comfortable, Natsuki closed her eyes and slept.

The next morning, quite uncharacteristically, it was Natsuki that awoke first. Her head still ached abominably, and the idea of leaving the snug pallet for the outside world was extremely unappealing. She did so anyway, taking pains not to wake the other woman, and carefully tucking the blankets back to ensure the elder stayed snug.

When a rested, cheerful-looking Shizuru glided into the kitchen, her hair tied back in a tidy braid, it was to the homey aroma of toasting bread. The sweet tang of an open crock of honey mixed cheerfully with the yellow sunshine, which streamed in through the windows. Even as Natsuki watched, a shaft of light caught a stray piece of that chestnut hair, turning it momentarily into a strand of flame, before slender fingers tucked it back into place.

The kettle broke that timeless moment. It whistled piercingly, the shrill call drawing attention to the range and a plenitude of simple foods.

"Your tea, madam?" Natsuki teased, bowing exaggeratedly and gesturing with a rather battered-looking wooden spatula.

"Why thank you." Shizuru gracefully curtsied back, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Natsuki is too kind."

With a stiff and proper dignity, Natsuki poured the water into the chipped teapot, as regal as any sovereign. Only the faintest hint of a smile on her lips, and the decidedly tattered nature of her borrowed apron, gave any indication that she wasn't serving the Queen herself.  
"My – Natsuki has outdone herself!" Shizuru stated appreciatively, watching as the water flowed into the pot. "She must be feeling better after her misadventures of the past few days."

Natsuki (rather carefully) placed the kettle back down, before shifting her attention to Shizuru. Wandering across to the battered stool, Natsuki pulled it out with truly incongruous dignity, motioning Shizuru to sit. As elder deigned to do so, one of the chipped teacups was produced as if by magic, and the teapot moved within easy reach. With eyes that were both bright and breezy, Natsuki considered which slice of toast was the freshest and began to butter it efficiently. "Natsuki certainly is." A plate of food was arranged and then slid in front of the elder. "And you need to eat, before everything goes cold."

Shizuru smiled her brilliant smile, tinged with just a faint hint of mischief.

"Ah – if Natsuki insists then I must…"

A polite, but impatient, knock sounded from the front door, cutting off the conversation. Shizuru and Natsuki looked at one another with identical, philosophical expressions.

"I'm never going to be allowed to eat breakfast with you, am I?" Natsuki said plaintively, tossing aside the spatula and pulling the pan off the range. As she struggled with removing the apron, Shizuru glided to the door and paused.

"I would be grateful if Natsuki would accept my assistance in answering the door." Her tone was utterly bland.

Natsuki growled, fighting to undo the knots and stays. "Sure thing, Shizuru. Just let me…"

_Damn thing won't come off… shouldn't have tried to pull it off over my he…_

A brief, sharp tug came, instantly releasing her from the entrapping fabric. Natsuki glanced sheepishly at her host, who stood quietly. Shizuru still held the one long apron strap she had pulled.

"Shall we go then?" Natuski said weakly.

Suppressed amusement leaked through the mask Shizuru had assumed. "Yes, I think so."

Both women walked out into the corridor.

The knocking came again, the tapping sharp but not aggressive. Despite the tension in Shizuru's shoulders, Natsuki managed to reach the door first. She unlocked it very carefully, senses on full alert, fists balled and ready to swing. It was extremely off-putting, therefore, when she stood on the threshold, looked around, but saw no one. "Hello?" she said doubtfully.

"Down 'ere, miss!"

Natsuki let her eyes fall. Standing diffidently on the second step was a tiny, dirty errand-boy. He smiled brightly, revealing a slightly battered set of white teeth.

"Message miss!"

Shizuru stepped past Natsuki smoothly while the latter attempted to recover her balance. "For Shizuru Viola?" said the elder, red eyes calm.

The grimy messenger boy flashed his gap-toothed smile again. "Yes ma'am! I had it down by the Yard. The coppers down there said to see it to you sharpish."

He dove into his leather satchel, hunting around roughly for a second before yanking out a slightly crinkled envelope.

"Here it is miss!"

"Thank you." Shizuru said, taking it, but making no move to open it.

Natsuki was still scowling, but had by now recovered, and flicked the boy a ha'penny. This item was deftly snatched out of the air and made to disappear within an overlarge coat.

"Thank you miss!" he said politely, tipping his tattered cap; then quick as a wink, he dived back into the morning traffic that thronged the road.

Shizuru moved back inside, turning over the plain paper envelope to break the seal and unfold the letter. Natsuki followed slowly, less interested in the contents of the missive than in securely refastening the wooden front door. The bolts and chains somehow felt inadequate after watching miscreants effortlessly defeat them only days before.

When she turned back from contemplating their insufficiencies, however, Shizuru was gone.

Natsuki had lived with her friend long enough now to realise that the elder girl probably wanted privacy. Certainly, if this was the case then Natsuki was not going to intrude.

The kettle was placed back on the range, a half-hearted start was made on the dusting, a new fire was struck, and the used blankets were neatly refolded. Even so, it was not long before Shizuru walked back into the drawing room, carrying the open letter. Natsuki froze. Her friend's face was set and grim.

Natsuki stepped forward with a low cry, her face a picture of concern. "Shizuru! What's happened?"

The newly lit fire, smoking slightly, fizzed and spat. The spreading warmth clashed oddly with the sudden tension of the room's occupants. The taller woman's eyes looked deeply unhappy, but the only other outward concession she made to this emotion was to sigh quietly. "I am afraid the Metropolitan police may be about to attempt something rather rash."

Natsuki's brows drew together in confusion. "I don't… what do you mean 'rash'?"

The elder woman smiled grimly.

"Has Natsuki locked all the doors and windows?"

The younger girl's face became suddenly intent. "Trouble?"

"Potentially. The identity of the first of our two attacks has become clear, and the police are moving to arrest him."

Natsuki turned away to hide an involuntary snarl. "Your uncle?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shizuru nod.

"Yes – the thuggish gentleman that Natsuki so soundly defeated has finally divulged the name of his employer. It was indeed Uncle Edward."

A slight flicker of pain crossed Shizuru's otherwise bland mask. Natsuki's anger dissolved, and she threw her friend a helpless, sympathetic look.

"I am sorry Shizuru… but... well." She ran her fingers through her dark hair, seeking words of comfort. "The only problem we need worry about now would be the ghost!"

There was a slight pause.

"Potentially."

That single word hung in the air between them, echoing into an increasing silence.

The younger was a woman of action, but she was far from stupid.

"You know who it is." Natsuki said slowly. "You know who the second person is."

A quiet settled over the drawing room. The ruddy firelight flickered, washing the space with heat, complimenting the sunlight pouring in through the windows. Its constant motion highlighted the very stillness of the two women it illuminated. The elder's mask had dropped back into place, perfect and unreadable.

Natsuki didn't move, or speak, or turn away.

Shizuru eventually broke that quiet.

"It's a flaw of my family," she said at last, softly, "in that we love completely without restraint."

Natsuki considered this silently.

"It consumes us." Shizuru continued, sadly. "It becomes the compass with which we steer our whole lives."

Natsuki was used to Shizuru now - she accepted her friend was a very private person, very careful with her emotions. This was why she was so difficult to read.

In this instance she simply sounded very tired.

* * *

AN: I thought this chapter was going to be easier than it was. **Facepalms** Life is crazy. And yes, before anyone thinks 'WTF was up with Natsuki's dream?' while in hospital heavily concussed (a few years ago now) that's what I saw. Moral of the story = don't get concussed.

So close to the end. So close. Only two or three more chapters to go. I can almost taste the epilogue.

**BunnyJoker. You are made of epic win. I cannot thank you enough. Also to****Black Mephistopheles, whom I have mentioned is a true gentleman.**

* * *

OUTTAKE:

Natsuki: "Man, we do a lot of sleeping."

Crosswood: "You try writing at obscene hours of the morning and see what YOUR story focuses on."

Natsuki:_ ((frowns)) _"Eight chapters in and this is the first time I've gotten to sleep on a damn mattress! My back is killing me!"

Shizuru: "Ah – I can help my Natsuki… "

Crosswood: _((shouts hysterically))_ " NO! No back-rubs, make-out sessions, weird cos-play, unusual toys, or anything else not strictly K+!

Shizuru: _((Annoyed)) _"Well. The author is no fun." _((Turns to Natsuki)) _"Natsuki should follow me. I know some good 'M' rated works which she would find much more… interesting."

Crosswood: No wait! How can I write a story without the two main…? _((Crosswood realises she is talking to herself; the others, including the readers, have left with indecent haste. For the last time, she gives up on the Omake.))_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer Ruba'i:**

Whose story this is I quite obviously know,

And thus claim no credit or money. Although

Sunrise will not care about what I've produced,

Those folks will still own what I've written below.

* * *

That day was a busy one on Eastgate Road – the debris of humanity mixed freely with tradesmen and gentry as all travelled that convenient thoroughfare. The clattering of heavy carts, the cries of optimistic vendors, and the chattering of pedestrians, could clearly be heard inside the fine old houses which lined the street.

Natsuki Kruger spent the remainder of that long and sunny day listening to those sounds, in an agony of anticipation. That crawling, anxious, feeling was by now routine. What was more unusual, and what held Natsuki on the edge of action all day, was that Shizuru Viola – normally so cool and collected - was also visibly unsettled.

It was terribly dreary inside that old house; teasing, empty, shadows danced all through the deserted rooms, stretching tired nerves to the breaking-point. A restless Natsuki reacted by patrolling constantly, scrutinising every security arrangement. The movement helped her relax. Shizuru, by contrast, stayed in the kitchen near the kettle, but also tended to appear near Natsuki, frequently at odd moments. Sometimes these moments were long enough for the duo to exchange a few words, but oftentimes Shizuru appeared only fleetingly, as if just seeing her young friend soothed some nameless worry.

Every visitor that arrived at the heavy front door was greeted with grim suspicion. Natsuki simply refused to let any person into the hallway until a combination of blunt questioning and physical searching had proven them to be harmless. Lunch-time came, almost disappointingly, without the slightest hint of trouble. Over that quick and hurried lunch, Shizuru was even more silent than normal, and if her dusky eyes brushed over Natsuki more frequently than might be usual – well, it could be forgiven. The tension had ruffled Natsuki also, and caused her food to settle uneasily in her stomach. It was almost a relief to escape the warm kitchen to resume her restive watch.

It was nearly two in the afternoon, when, whilst engaged in re-shoring up the coal-flue in the cellar, Natsuki felt a cold rush of air at her back. She turned sharply, snuffing her candle instantly and ducking sideways.

"Show yourself!" Natsuki growled, her ears straining for sounds of movement.

The gentle footsteps stopped their fall. The slow swish of skirts stilled. The very darkness seemed to draw breath, waiting.

"My - Natsuki is watchful," came that familiar, lilting voice.

The younger let her hackles fall, mastering ragged breathing. "Shizuru! – you gave me a fright!"

Another candle was lit. Through the dim coolness, vibrant green eyes met dusky red, reminding Natsuki of one very important thing.

_We both seek reassurance from the other. _

_She is afraid._

Natsuki coughed to cover her awkwardness.

"How are you holding up, Shizuru?"

Flickering light played gently across the empty barrels of the wine-cellar, sinking into the darkness of the spaces between. Shizuru held the candle-stick in both hands, fingers wrapped around it as if seeking warmth.

"My - Natsuki should not be concerned about me." Shizuru said, walking forward. Her tone was open and airy, at odds with the stress her perfect posture could not hide. Shizuru's face was so serene that even an unobservant onlooker would have suspected deception.

Natsuki threw her a tight smile. "Well, your Natsuki is concerned anyway. You're holding up alright?"

Shizuru paused. She tilted her head sideways slightly, and then bit her lip. "I…" Another silence fell, and Shizuru's eyes focused on a vision only she could see. She paused again. "I am very much afraid I have put Natsuki in danger."

That same untroubled tone was even less convincing to Natsuki when used for a second time.

The younger woman turned away from Shizuru to continue her work securing the flue. A few lumps of coal were carelessly kicked out of the way, raising dust.

"We went over this before, Shizuru." Natsuki said impatiently, waving one grimy hand, intent on her work. "I'm not leaving you. That's final." She dusted off her hands and turned back to her friend.

Shizuru had closed her eyes, and in that dimness her mask slipped slightly to reveal traces of fear. "One is not like the other!" she cried in pure anguish, causing Natsuki to jolt. "My uncle may be a foolish, gambling… but the… the second person is not! Natsuki _must _be on her guard today. She will be the target. She must be the target, there is no… _do not answer the door without me!_ "

Shizuru locked eyes with Natsuki, her eyes tormented. "Please. _Please. _Natsuki is very… Natsuki is very dear to me, and if she… if she was to..."

Shizuru turned her face away, her voice trailing off into a charged silence.

The mark of this impassioned plea stood frozen for an instant in complete astonishment, before lucidity returned. Natsuki leapt over the small coal-pile and rushed to Shizuru's side, hesitating only briefly before enfolding her friend in a warm hug. "If that's what you want, Shizuru." She said softly. "I won't answer the door without you."

Shizuru's reply was to bury her face in Natsuki's shoulder. "Thank you. _Thank you_."

When Shizuru returned to the kitchen this time, Natsuki went with her.

At four o'clock on the dot, a knocking alerted the two women to the presence of two men at their doorstep; one was heavily-built policeman with his helmet off respectfully, and the other was a sharp-faced lawyer holding a leather briefcase. These two gentlemen were slightly startled by Natsuki's suspicious growling, but luckily the cause of this – Shizuru's proximity to the door (and thus potential danger) – was also the solution, on-hand as she was to rescue them. Tea was soon served for their benefit in the drawing room.

It transpired that these two men had come in the hope of asking further questions about the attack in the street, and to ensure the accuracy of information collected at the scene. In return, sympathetically, they confirmed that Edward Clyde had been arrested earlier that day. A casual observer would have been forgiven for believing Shizuru was only gently regretful at this news, but the rapidity with which her tea disappeared might have provided a clue that she was more disquieted than she appeared.

It was nearing five, the winter sun settling low on the hidden horizon, when a second knock was heard on the front door. Natsuki, restless and territorial, was not in the least bit pleased to be waved back onto her window seat by the policeman. The Peeler clearly intended to send the newcomer away with the weight of his official authority, and then resume his interview without bothering his subject.

Natsuki let the dying sunlight warm the curves of her face, before standing up from the seat to pace a little. The heavy footfalls of the Bobby receded down the corridor and stopped, to be replaced by the barely audible sound of the door being opened. Muffled voices came from the corridor, the deep bass of the policeman echoing clearly, contrasted against the complete inaudibility of the visitor. Natsuki's edgy gaze travelled over the room to her companion. Shizuru had been drawn into a conversation with the lawyer, her face calm; the tranquillity of still water.

_Still waters run deep._

The creak of the drawing-room door announced the return of that fine policeman, but he wasn't the figure that entered the drawing-room first. A slight shape scurried in ahead of him; a mousy, drab one; carrying a worn-looking handbag. This figure paused, giving each person in the room a frightened, anxious look. It was Aunt Mitsuko.

Natsuki, now leaning idly against the wall, looked up from contemplating her friend. Her surprise was palpable. "Shizu… what are you…?"

At the incoherent words, those red eyes swivelled round to land on Natsuki, familiar eyes in the face of a stranger. Those eyes lent a lie to that mask of fearfulness. They were utterly cold and devoid of emotion.

"You." That sweet voice was bland. "My husband was arrested today because of you."

Natsuki blinked in surprise, pushing off from the wall. "What the… wait!"

Mitsuko began to advance, every step quick, light, and perfectly grounded. Dangerous.

From across the room, Shizuru cried out something desperate, but Natsuki had no attention to spare - she began quickly to back away, raising her hands, desperately attempting reason. "Wait! Wait! He sent some heavies to attack me! Don't you think that's a little…"

Without a single word or cry, Mitsuko Clyde attacked. Faster than the eye could track, Natsuki's centre was flicked out from under her, sending her sprawling flat on her back. Without a single change in expression, the slender aunt swung her handbag like an oddly shaped club, bringing it down into Natsuki's torso with some force. There was a ghastly crunching noise, and our heroine howled in pain – the bag was clearly weighted; the effort Mitsuko needed to raise it up again only served to prove it. What saved Natsuki from the second powerful blow was luck; the young woman instinctively flinched away from her assailant, and the bag glanced painfully from her side to slam into the wooden floor. As Mitsuko raised her weapon for a third blow, Natsuki desperately rolled out of the way, escaping at the expense of a surprisingly brutal kick.

Through the faint ringing in her ears, she heard the policeman yell something in his deep bass voice. This worthy had apparently rushed forward as soon as the assault had begun, grabbing the aunt's frail shoulder in an attempt to restrain her. But Mitsuko had been underestimated again - the Bobby was quickly bloodied with a powerful palm-strike to the face, and sent ignominiously staggering away. The policeman's efforts were not in vain, however. He gained Mitsuko's victim precious time. Gasping for air, her chest on fire with pain, Natsuki scrambled to her feet and clawed at the mantelpiece. The Aunt turned to look at her, her face expressionless. The lawyer was saying something low and coaxing, which was universally ignored. Natuski was far too busy wondering how to ensure Shizuru remained safe to have any attention for a wordsmith attempting reason with a madman.

Mitsuko dropped the handbag, still with that terrifying lack of expression. With her right hand, she reached into her wide sleeve, and removed a large-calibre revolver, pointing it at Natsuki's head. All eyes swivelled to the gun, transfixed. Although the grip wasn't perfect, it was firm, and the set of Mitsuko's posture betrayed no hesitation.

Natsuki, for the first time, was afraid.

This brief flash of fear was about the same length of time it took for the last person in the room to take action. A flash of chestnut hair, and suddenly a tall figure stood between Natsuki and death. Shizuru held her arms relaxed by her side, facing the pistol with complete composure, as if murderous relatives with handguns were an everyday occurrence.

"Aunt Mitsuko."

The firearm tracked ever-so-slightly away from Natsuki, settling unwaveringly on a point roughly level with Shizuru's breastbone.

Natsuki snarled to herself. _Threaten Shizuru will you? _

With admirable stealth, the younger girl began to edge along the wall, ignoring the pain from broken ribs. The two Viola's attention was fixed on the other, and the men were fixed on the gun; the only notice taken of Natsuki was by the great glass mirror above the mantelpiece. Slowly, carefully, Natsuki moved out from behind the shield of Shizuru's body. The handgun did not falter.

The last rays of the sun lit the scene – a battered, injured Natuski; a furious, frozen policeman; a dumbstruck lawyer clutching a briefcase; and finally two women, superficially alike, facing each other over a bare wooden floor.

* * *

AN: **Bunnyjoker. ****Black Mephistopheles.** Thank you**. **

Also: Ruba'i are awesome. Go look some up; they're pure gold.

* * *

OUTTAKE: Courtesy of **BunnyJoker**, and also dedicated to that reviewer.

_Ghost floats in, moaning softly, and dragging chains along the floor. Natsuki rushes out into the corridor with her trusty poker._

Natsuki: "Why are you here, ghost! State your purpose!"

_The ghost says nothing, but instead simply drags herself closer. She steps right up in front of a surprised Natsuki, grabs her, and begins throttle her._

Ghost: _((raging))_ "You dip****! That thing Shizuru said at the end of last chapter? That was a confession! In other words, moron, she wants in your pants! What are you DOING not getting laid by this person that you are obviously attracted to?

Natsuki: _((makes a surprised noise through the strangling)) _"Wha… really?"

_Shizuru and the ghost both facefault. _

_Natsuki recovers, drops the poker, and pounces on Shizuru whilst she's down._

_Crosswood comes racing in._

Crosswood: "NOOOO! Get out! Get out of here with your obviously dirtier than k+ thoughts! OUT!"

_The author charges with a bucket of ice-water, only to have the ghost crash-tackle her. After a brief struggle, during which the author gets a bucket of ice-water in the face, our ghost drags her away. It is doubtful the two young ladies on the floor either notice, or (at this point) care. The narrator decides that prudence is the better part of valour and begins a discreet fade out…_


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Mai-HiME.

I tried about six different poetry forms for this, and they were all rubbish (not even in a 'so bad that it was good' way – they were 'so bad they were just bad'.) I'm therefore going to do the traditional thing, and let you all ignore this. Onwards to the story!

* * *

Two pairs of crimson eyes locked. Two perfect masks told shocked observers nothing. The entire world narrowed down to just two people.

"I cannot allow you to hurt Natsuki." Shizuru said flatly, as the final rays of the sun slipped over the horizon.

Mitsuko went very still at her words. The fingers that gripped her handgun tensed. Her eyes vanished into shadow, causing the angles of her face to stand out in sharp relief.

To observers unacquainted with the Viola family – to the bloodied policeman and the shocked lawyer - the older woman said nothing. To those fine gentlemen, Mitsuko expressed not a flicker of remorse, or guilt, or sorrow.

But Natsuki was not unacquainted any more.

During the week following her rescue from the cold streets of London, Natsuki had been in Shizuru Viola's near constant presence. Over the course of that short but electrifying association, she had seen the taller woman in situations ranging from intense fear to incandescent joy. The regard in which Natsuki held her friend had led her to unconsciously note the subtle changes in that most perfect of façades, and to associate them with certain actions. This unparalleled expertise was easily transferable to Mitsuko; indeed, after the company of Shizuru, reading the elder Viola was hardly a challenge at all.

In the instant following Shizuru's ultimatum, half-buried beneath cold and bitter hate, Mitsuko Clyde had felt a brief flash of pity for her niece. It was then Natsuki knew that she would pull the trigger.

That realisation galvanised Natsuki, flashing through her veins like electricity. The pain of broken ribs seemed suddenly trivial, the bruises faded from her awareness, and the world sped up. She moved with it.

"No! Stop!" someone yelled. Was it her?

There was a sharp crack from the pistol, the high pitched smash of broken glass, and cries of horror, pain, and confusion. In the midst of this, whirling and struggling, Natsuki and Mitsuko grappled. By some miracle, Natsuki had moved fast enough to smash a fist into the barrel of the pistol to upset the point-blank shot – Shizuru had been saved. There Natsuki's luck had ended. The elder instantly closed the gap to bring her considerable martial experience to bear; a graceful counterpoint to Natsuki's brutal pragmatism. The world around them was chaos, but they were oblivious, evenly matched as they were, and totally focused on their own survival. There was no finesse to this struggle, no lady-like calm, no Viola masks. Both combatants slipped and slid over pieces of the broken mirror, were sent stumbling over coins spilling from an aperture which had been hidden behind it, clawing and raking and biting. he elder desperately tried to bring her firearm to bear, but Natsuki moved like liquid lightning, striking without mercy. She struck with her elbows, with her knees, and with her head; her teeth were bared and lips pulled back in pure, unadulterated, killing-rage. _Nobody tries to shoot Shizuru! NOBODY!_

But Mitsuko had her own advantages - she was fighting for love, which was as scary in its own way as Natsuki's anger, and which retained about it far more rationality. Desperate, crazy strength was barely held off by deft skill (coupled with not a little providence). That deadly gun wavered back and forth, and was fought over fiercely; the bystanders prevented from helping and sent scurrying behind cover by the unpredictability of its arc.

Suddenly, it all went wrong.

Mitsuko made an abrupt motion forwards, frothing with exertion, and Natsuki jolted away to avoid the blow. The younger girl's foot landed on a stray guinea which slid out from under her and unbalanced her for a fraction of an instant. That was all the opening Mitsuko needed.

The gun barked a second time.

Natsuki crumpled to the floor.

The aunt fumbled back and away, panting heavily, taking aim again with shaking hands. Her young opponent looked up slowly, eyes alight with defiance, breath similarly laboured. Natsuki's hands were clamped around the gaping, ripping tear in her thigh. Blood oozed out from between white fingers, the pool spreading evenly until it soaked into the edge of the carpet.

The elder woman deliberately levelled the firearm at Natsuki's head, curling her finger inside the trigger guard…

_WHAPTHUD!_

… and then dropping to the ground like a rock, the handgun falling from her grasp. Shizuru stood over the fallen body of her aunt, face blank, the faithful poker raised again - but another blow was not necessary. Mitsuko lay still.

The fire-iron was lowered, slowly. Time stopped for an instant.

Then the policeman dived forward and secured the loosened pistol, before turning to Natsuki and yelling something incomprehensible. The lawyer, with great presence of mind, ducked out of the room and began stridently calling for reinforcements. Shizuru, heedless of the glass and completely ignoring her new fortune in coins, was at Natsuki's side in a flash; her hands clamped down to try and stem the bleeding. "We need a doctor." She said sharply to the policeman. "Now!"

It was a command that brooked no argument. The Bobby actually saluted smartly, before bellowing something at the lawyer, and pulling out his handcuffs. Wisely, and probably realising that there was no way he was going to be allowed anywhere near Natsuki, he turned his attention to Mitsuko Clyde. She was restrained securely before being dragged safely out of the way.

The room was filling up quickly; it seemed all the policemen from half a mile around had come rushing at the lawyer's call. The mirror lay on the floor in a thousand pieces, glittering crazily, lit by the Peelers' bright lamps. Its heavy wooden frame had collapsed inward with the destruction of the glass, and had fallen from its mountings to crush the mantelpiece below it. This ruin was not what claimed the eye, however. Hundreds and thousands of coins were scattered in amongst that shattered mirror, still pouring from the wall even now - and in the hollow space where the mirror once stood there were boxes filled with deeds and securities and bonds, the existence of which had caused untold misery for Shizuru and her family.

But Natsuki was not interested in any of this. She tried to sit up - giggling slightly when Shizuru pressed her firmly back down. Everything felt so light – thoughts congealing strangely in her head. _She's so beautiful. _Natsuki thought. _Did I notice that before?_ But when she opened her mouth to speak, her normally husky tone had roughened into hoarseness. "Shizuru… you're really…" She croaked, only to be muted by a gentle hand on her arm. A reassuring pressure, comfortable and safe.

"Natsuki must hush now, and lie still."

Shizuru's face looked broken again, as it had in the cellar.

_She shouldn't look like that. Nothing should make her look like that._

The effort of thought was suddenly too much. Natsuki's head weighed about a million pounds, far too heavy to keep upright. She let it fall back with a thump onto the hard wooden floor, fuzzily attempting reason.

_Ahhhh, what happened? I could just close my eyes… _

"Natsuki? Natsuki must stay awake!"

Natsuki rolled her head upwards and blinked slowly. Shizuru's clothes were splattered with blood, kneeling as she was in a pool of that liquid - but the elder didn't appear to notice. She had moved sometime –_ was I awake? _– and was now kneeling by Natsuki's head. Other figures flowed around her, yelling, sweeping up coins, their boots crushing glass into fine powder. Someone else had taken over the job of applying pressure on Natsuki's leg. Shizuru paid them no attention, leaning over her young friend, careful to not bump any broken ribs.

_How can she stay so graceful even now? She's like daylight._

"Shizuru." Natsuki croaked. Her throat was so dry, and her mouth tasted like copper. She licked dry lips, before trying again. "Shizuru… talk to me. Tell me… what just happened."

Shizuru was running fingers through Natsuki's hair in a calming motion, although which woman was more soothed by the gesture was unclear. It served to distract Natsuki from the shooting pain of her leg and the dull murmuring of those attending to her wound.

"Natsuki saved me." Shizuru mumbled, her voice cracking on the final word. The fingers in Natsuki's hair stilled. "Natsuki saved me."

That graceful figure then went terribly quiet.

With great effort, Natsuki brought a hand up and placed it on Shizuru's closest knee. The older girl was trembling, but she was warm, the heat sinking in Natsuki's hands like sunshine. With a deep breath, the taller woman composed herself, and the trembling grew less. Shizuru smiled weakly, and her hands returned to stroking Natsuki's hair.

"Mitsuko knew she had to drive my Natsuki off." Shizuru continued, in that same quiet voice. "She had to send my Natsuki away like she's removed everyone I ever knew. She came so close, Natsuki, so close to winning – I could not have endured by myself much longer."

Men scurried around, almost unheeded by the two. A long green stretcher was unfolded beside her.

Shizuru moved to grip Natsuki's hand tightly. "She was the Ghost, Natsuki. What better way to win a battle than to convince your opponent to lose? - and I was losing. I would have sold the house to them, my Natsuki; before you, no one was brave enough to suffer with me."

The pressure on her leg increased, and then suddenly on her wound there was a stinging sensation, not unlike burning. Natsuki ignored it, blinking slowly, processing Shizuru's words.

"So." She slurred tiredly. "What will you do?"

Shizuru's mask was completely gone now, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. This caused the fuzzy Natsuki no small amount of dismay. She floundered around with imperfect thoughts, trying to think of something her friend might like.

"You should come with me to Northamptonshire," Natsuki said vaguely, "now you've found the treasure. You could meet my Dad." Hope leaked into her voice.

Shizuru froze, her face a mixture of disbelief and agony, before unbidden amusement crept into her eyes, and her mouth twitched involuntarily. "I would like that." She said in that lilting voice, and smiled a crooked smile. "I would like nothing better."

Natsuki was satisfied.

With a final great heave, the men loaded the bemused but hurting Natsuki onto the stretcher and lifted her high into the air, before a sharp command sent them walking smoothly out of the house. Shizuru glided alongside.

As the last light of the glooming faded into deep blackness, policemen became the sole and final occupants of the house in Eastgate Road.

* * *

AN: **Black Mephistopheles. His due credit comes first, along with my thanks.**

Absolute top marks for anyone who figured out the treasure was behind the mirror! I was going to put a few more clues in the text – yes, there are one or two hints here and there - but I never figured out how to make it less obscure without giving the game away. Forgive me.

Could I take this opportunity to shamelessly beg for a review? I have learnt loads over this course of this story, and the catalysts have been the kind people who have taken the time to leave a couple of comments. To those kind folks who have previously left a note – a tribute;

Roses are Red

Violets are blue

In Soviet Russia

Fics review you.

* * *

_Version 1.3_

OUTTAKE ONE: Dedicated to **ShadowCub**; for reminding me that every story can be improved.

_((Natsuki and Shizuru are enjoying a peaceful breakfast, the sunlight lighting the kitchen table.))_

Natsuki: "Well that sucks."

Shizuru: "I'm sorry?"

Natsuki: "I got shot! It'll take months - if not_ years -_ to recover fully!"

Shizuru: "But in that time Natsuki will have me as her own personal nurse." _((Smile evilly))_ "I recommend lots of bed-rest."

Natsuki: _((Looks frightened))_ "Well that's… that is to say… GAH! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

Pirate One: "Avast there, me wench!"

Natsuki: "Pirates! Pirates have appeared in our kitchen! WTF?"

Pirate Two: "The author told us we're ta com 'ere, so quit yer bellyachin' and han' over the booty!"

Shizuru: _((Thoughtfully))_ "Excuse me Pirate Two, but I believe I'm the only one allowed Natsuki's booty."

Natsuki: _((Engages selective deafness, and turns to the author, raging))_ "PIRATES? What were you_ THINKING?_"

Crosswood: "Well we've had ghosts, treasure, murderous relatives… I just took the next logical step."

_((Everyone stares.))_

Crosswood: _((Sweat drops)) _"Soooooooo… you reckon the Pirates are a bit much then?"

_((Everyone continues to stare.))_

Crosswood: "Fine then! Fine." _((Grumbles))_ "See if I write another story about you two." _((she grumps some more, then beckons pirates.)) _"Come on fellas; let's go get a tall glass of lemonade. Make it quick; in less than a minute these two turkeys will be up to something you don't want to see."

_((Crosswood and the pirates leave in some haste.))_

Natsuki: _((Sighs)) _"Peace at last. It's nice isn't it Shizuru? …. Shizuru?"

Shizuru: _((Stares at Natsuki like she's a slice of bacon.)) _"The author just gave me permission."

Natsuki: "…what?"

Shizuru: "…she even left, and took everyone with her, so that we'd be _all_ alone." _((Smiles evilly))_

Natsuki: _((Slightly panicked))_ "Now… now let's not be… no, no, wait… Shi… _Shizuru!"_

_And here is a good place for the narration to end._

* * *

OUTTAKE TWO: Dedicated to **MatHattess:** "A tribute to the importance of Proper Communication" _or _"How 'Cold' Could Have Finished in One Chapter"

_Natsuki and Shizuru are sitting before a fireplace on their first night in Eastgate road._

_There is a short silence, before Shizuru breaks it._

Shizuru: "You realise that I'm desperately in love with you?"

Natsuki: _((Blinks))_ "Really? Wow, great! I love you too! I should probably mention I'm pretty much an expy of a large fluffy dog. Can I also say that I think you're smokin' hot?"

Shizuru: "My – Natsuki… thank you! By the way, whenever I say 'my – Natsuki' you should remove the hyphen and then read it with Yuri goggles on. In passing, if we go broke, a huge treasure is hidden behind that large mirror there. And also my aunt is evil."

Natsuki: _((Blinks again))_ "…ahh? Oh well, fair enough."  
_Silence falls._

Shizuru: "You know… I think now is an appropriate time to make out like horny teenagers."

Natsuki: _((Nods))_ "Yep, you're right. Where the heck did that mattress go?"

_And they lived happily ever after_.

THE END.


	12. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER! Insert your own version of 'this isn't mine' here.

* * *

The trap clattered to a halt on the gravelled sweep of the driveway, and was instantly the complete centre of attention. Hidden eyes watched from every secret corner of the main house, as the coachman lowered the steps and diffidently offered his arm to help the first passenger down. He was waved away curtly as this passenger stood up; she instead jammed a hat on her head almost defiantly, and made her unaided way haltingly down the steps. At the bottom, the figure paused triumphantly, before reaching back up to help the other occupant descend. The more careful of the concealed observers would have noted the ostensible helper was leaning rather heavily on her plain oaken walking stick, and the beauty accepting her help didn't seem to need it. Few, however, would have noticed these things even if they had been so careful – they had more important things to consider.

The whisper flew round below stairs as if gifted wings – "Miss Kruger has come home!"

The two figures paused at the base of the trap to simply look at the house. The taller of the two smiled slightly mysteriously.

"Natsuki is home again. She must be pleased."

The younger girl turned to her companion, looking a trifle unsure. "Well… was this a good idea Shizuru?"

Any reply was abruptly prevented by a loud, crashing bang.

At the top of a set of granite stairs, just outside the tasteful main entrance to the house, stood a man. He was a big, rolling, bear of a man - but clearly a gentleman. A thick shock of dark hair contrasted sharply with his salt-and-pepper beard, and beetle-black eyes sparkled under heavy eyebrows. At that exact moment, the whole of that rather pleasant face was frozen in open astonishment. He gave a strangled, inarticulate cry.

Natsuki paled. Shizuru's smile grew fond.

In an instant, the man had flung himself down the stairs to stand before the two girls, his arms outreached as if to grab Natsuki. "You're back…" he murmured, sounding disbelieving. He paused to shake his head – as if his eyes were deceiving him. Natsuki offered a sickly, hesitant smile. The man blinked rapidly. Then he exploded.

"You're back!" he roared jubilantly, actually leaping in his elation. He carefully moved forward and wrapped his arms around his daughter, making sure not to jostle the still healing leg, or squash tender ribs. Then he sprang back and exuberantly swept Shizuru up in a bone-crushing embrace. "You brought her back home to me!"

Even the legendary composure of Shizuru Viola couldn't withstand being picked up and waved about in triumph; Natsuki felt compelled to step in.

"Father."

The hulking admiral continued his celebration, practically dancing with the fullness of his delight. His enthusiasm had clearly overflowed his reason. Only a smacking kiss on Shizuru's cheek finally galvanised Natsuki enough to curb it.

"DAD!"

The man grinned at his daughter, winking cheekily. "Now, now my girl – it's just a little thank you; I'm not trying to steal her, so there's no harm." He practically skipped back up the steps. "Are you two hungry? We've got food." He turned to Shizuru, eyes alight with glee. "You're staying forever, right?"

Natsuki looked entirely nonplussed.

"Good!" barked the Admiral, oblivious to this. "Good! Go tell James set up the bedroom for you both, Natsuki. Lunch will be ready shortly."

Grumbling, the slightly shell-shocked woman hobbled up the stone stairs, servants hovering should she require assistance. They smiled indulgently as she glowered at them, and followed her discreetly as she headed inside.

The Admiral turned again to Shizuru, who was looking stunned, and in both sets of eyes the other saw great depths of feeling.

There was a brief silence.

"Thank you." Natsuki's father said softly, in entirely different tones. "Thank you for helping her. Thank you for staying with her, and thank you for bringing her back."

Shizuru's expression flickered through many responses; surprise, embarrassment, fondness.

The Admiral turned to look at the still-open door and smiled slyly. "You realise I'm that girl's father, right? I _know _her. Hell, I remember when I met her mother; I had that same look in my eye… well. I know everything about that trouble you had in Eastgate – and to my mind, Natsuki couldn't have chosen better. Welcome to the family."

His smile dissolved back into genuine delight and pleasure.

Shizuru's expression rivalled the sun for brilliance.

As servants bustled around the trap, gently removing baggage and whisking it away, two figures climbed the steps and entered their house together.

* * *

AN: Done and dusted. **Thank you ****Black Mephistopheles.**

_This is an important note_: if you want to see this kind of thing done much better by a much cleverer person, try **Dezopenguin's** 'Elementary, My Dear Natsuki' stories, as they're made of win.

Once again, and for the final time, my deepest and sincerest regards to every person who reviewed.


End file.
